The vessel that had been sitting outside an encampment in Montana for the last few days had been big news. Being big news, none of the networks would shut up about it. Considering the twenty-four hour coverage over both the internet and the airwaves, it was somewhat unusual that virtually nobody had noticed two figures approaching the ship. One of the figures was that of an incredibly ancient looking man who was stooped over with age and seemed to depend on a walker to move. The elderly man had a full head of snow white hair, and a pair of piercing black eyes. The second figure was that of a man who was either in late middle age or just entering old age with a head of iron gray hair that was starting to turn white and a pair of black eyes that were a bit warmer than those of his older companion.
When both men reached the ramp they exchanged greetings in the language of the beings who owned the ship whose current occupants were currently at the makeshift bar speaking with some world leaders and politely declining yet another drink offer from Zeframe Cochran. After the formality was over, they climbed aboard, made themselves at home in the ship's small dining area and introduced themselves.
"My name's Stonn. I survived an emergency bailout over Siberia in 1908 after a malfunction sent us into the atmosphere. Two of the crew were caught in the explosion and killed. The communications equipment in my and T'ara's escape pod didn't survive the landing either. You?" the older of the pair said.
"You had escape pods?" the younger exclaimed.
"Experimental craft design. Obviously faulty. It's a good thing that it wasn't over a more populated area when it exploded." Stonn said.
"They seem to send alot of those here if what I went through and that incident 20 years ago is anything to judge by." the younger male said. "My name's Mestral. My vessel crash landed in Pennsylvania in 1957. Our captain was killed, but T'Mir Stron and I were almost miraculously uninjured. We were stranded in a town called Carbon Creek for an entire winter, and when a rescue vessel arrived to pick us up, I decided to remain behind."
One of the ship's crew - a male who looked to be middle aged - walked into the mess area and looked shocked for half a second upon seeing its occupants before his expression returned to neutral.
"Mestal? Weren't you cremated?" the crew member asked.
"He got better." Stonn said.
Mestral raised an eyebrow at this.
"Monty Python?" he asked.
"I was in Russia, not on the moon." Stonn replied.