Stron knew this day would eventually come, but he had hoped he'd be long dead before then. He hadn't known that this specifically would happen, but he had known that since they didn't destroy themselves in the last couple of wars, humankind would eventually find the means to escape their asylum and reach the stars.

Half an hour ago, a strange looking craft had landed within the boundaries of the property that had surrounded his isolated ancestral home. According to the property's security system that was mainly an advanced warning for wandering le-matya two rather cool beings climbed out of it a few minutes later. A nearby security camera that had been on the property's outer perimeter since the days before Surak revealed the two beings to be humans since he didn't know anyone else who would wear space suits with what looked to be English writing on them and patches that resembled the flag that was flying over several buildings in Carbon Creek Pennsylvania in 1957/58.

As he watched, the pair pulled an item out of a container and began setting it up. It was yet another of those flags that belonged to the nation called America.

He was going to have none of this. This property had been in his family for thousands of years before Surak and there was no way he was going to let another claim it, even symbolically.

He deplored violence, but it seemed to be the only thing those creatures really understood. After grabbing his weapon of choice, he headed out to meet the trespassers.

&!&!&

It had been while Zephram Cochran had been posing for photos next to the flag that he saw the alien walk over a nearby hill. The being that was leaning on an aged walking stick looked incredibly old by human standards, but there was really no way to tell. Deciding to attempt to avoid any potential conflict, he moved to stand in the least threatening pose he could think of, putting his hands out to show that they were empty. The alien who looked like a slightly greenish and rather grumpy old man stopped less than two feet away from him.

"Get." the alien said as he raised its walking stick.

Before Zephram could begin to try to figure out what Get could have possibly meant in the alien language, the alien rapped him sharply on the helmet with said stick.

"Off."

WHACK

"My."

WHACK

"Lawn!"

WHACK