Greetings, Earthlings,
My name is Colonel Crush Egghead, Commander of the Fifth Reinforcement Squadron of Planet Squeedo Space Militia, located in the fourth spoke of an irregularly shaped star formation called the Whoopee Cushion Galaxy.
I am here on your planet, assigned to conduct an on-going reconnaissance and diplomatic mission. The objective is to gather as much information as we can about what happened to a missing squadron of explorer/scientists sent here back in what would have been your 1950's then to continue their work. Their mission was to make contact with the humanoid population of the planet in hopes of drafting a peaceful immigration policy that would allow our people to settle and co-exist with the native species.
Our desire to settle on another planet was the result of overcrowding. We have advanced medicine and DNA engineering which allow us to live longer and virtually disease-free. While generally a good thing, it also removes the frequency of death, a natural population control. Hence, within a mere half-millennia, we found ourselves literally outgrowing our planet. We were forced to start looking for a new home.
You may be surprised to learn, with all the countless galaxies and solar systems in the universe, there are relatively few with attributes that can support life, at least our kind of life. Prior to discovering Earth, we had already populated five other planets. Still, every eon or two, we found ourselves, once again, short on real estate. When we stumbled upon the third planet from the sun of this beautiful solar system, back in, according to Earth reckoning, 1952, we were delighted with the find. Earth had the works: oxygen, water, livable temperatures, seasons, all kinds of thriving life forms.
For several years, the exploration team simply sat overhead cloaked by an invisibility shield, making observations and taking notes. We discovered Earth was a bountiful place to live, housing an astounding variety of life forms and fascinating environments. You have a ridiculous amount of water here -- more than you know what to do with. Most planets consider themselves lucky to have 1/3 of their surface covered in H2O. Earth has 3/4!!!! This, in and of itself, made this planet a rare and valuable find.
Our scientists were astounded at the numerous species, which have adapted to living their entire life in water-- both fresh and saline! Our biology team actually made contact with some very intelligent, peaceful marine creatures capable of vocalization they later learned you called humpback whales. With perseverance and patience, they were able to interpret the language of the humpbacks. Their first contact with an indigenous species! Both whales and crew had delightful conversations that went on for days. The rapport grew so strong, the team went so far as to say, they had made their first "friends" on Earth.
After several more months of preparation, the team decided it was time to proceed with an attempt to make contact with the humanoids. Having the ability to change form to look humanoid, and a device which allowed us to speak and understand any language, a team of seven crew members were selected and sent down to the planet's surface to try their luck. As you can imagine, everyone, both the orbiting and the away teams, were very excited. To a round of cheers and shouts of encouragement, our exploratory craft, called the Calypso, flew off with high expectations.
The plan was for the Calypso to land in a relatively uninhabited region of Earth called Nevada, where the crew would assume human shape and leave their ship to seek out some human beings. The hope was, if they could get along with a small number of humans, as would be the case at the landing site, they could gradually assimilate and learn the skills needed to work their way up interacting in the larger urban centers.
Then, catastrophe! A thunderstorm formed more quickly than anyone could have predicted and after a sudden, vicious jolt of lightning, the Calypso shook like a supernova. During the turbulence, the pilot had barely been able to pull out of a terrifying dive. Suddenly, the cloaking device malfunctioned. The next thing the anxious orbiting team knew they were receiving SOS signals and garbled transmissions that the Calypso had been spotted and was being chased. In spite of brilliant evasive maneuvers on the part of our pilot, the swift, dangerous, aggressive jet aircraft finally hit the Calypso with a missile forcing a crash landing. The last message received reported that three of the seven away crew had been killed, two seriously injured and the rest, dazed and helpless to get the ship airborne again. The last words reported were a feeble, "We can see them coming. They are armed and don't look friendly. We fear this will not end well." Then, the signal went silent.
The orbiting team tried desperately to reestablish contact with the Calypso, but to no avail. After biting toenails for over an hour, the orbiting crew radioed out to our fleet that they were going to attempt to fly down to see what, if anything, could be done to save the away team. At the time, we were just entering the fringes of the Milky Way. We radioed back it would still be months before we could reach Earth and offer assistance. They answered, expressing fears of several worst-case scenarios. We promised to do our best and I ordered our pilot to put pedal-to-the-metal on the Super Drive.
Sixty-five days later, when we finally arrived and settled into Earth orbit, we were unable to make any contact with the exploration team. It seemed as if they had simply vanished into thin air. Furthermore, the site in Nevada where the exploration team crashed showed no evidence of their wrecked aircraft or any other indication they were ever there. With little hope, we determinedly sent down a patrol of two dozen airmen, disguised in human form, to search the area and glean whatever intelligence they could. The same question was in everyone's mind ... what in the name of Jupiter had happened to our guys?
Many Earthlings had seen the crash. Despite the military’s best efforts and silly stories about weather balloons, it could not be kept quite. Word eventually leaked out that the wreckage had been taken to a military base mysteriously named Area 51. The public went ga-ga over it.
Much to the chagrin of the US government who was trying to keep the "Great Secret of Alien Invasion" under wraps and in spite of electrified, wire fences and armed guards on constant patrol,
Area 51 suddenly found itself in a constant spotlight. All sorts of "Alien Hunters", "investigative journalists" and conspiracy-theory devotees camped out in RV's and tents around the perimeter, watching 
the base and everyone on it with high-powered binoculars.
This, of course, made our investigation all the harder to pull off undetected.
Admittedly, we made some mistakes along the way. We were airmen, after all, not spies. We had been trained in military tactics, not espionage. Although we did our best, face it, ... we goofed up once or twice, ...made a couple of accidental, inadvertent blunders. These, we called "Encounters of the Second Kind" ... meaning, accidentally coming face to face with the Earthlings. "Encounters of the Third Kind" were purposely coming face to face with Earthlings as ourselves--something we learned we were far from ready for. As a result of our ineptitude, a rash of science fiction novels, movies and alien watchdog groups emerged across the country like wasps shooting out of a nest that had been whacked with a stick. The whole country turned paranoid!
Humans started accusing us of doing unthinkable things ... abductions and experiments...it was all lies. The truth was we just got caught stealing Twinkies out of a grocery story or accidentally discharging a laser gun in public...things like that. Perfectly harmless. Nevertheless, everyone on the streets seemed to be on the look-out for us. Made it downright difficult to do our job.
Still, we persisted. After infiltrating our way into government and military agencies, and digging through all sorts of classified stories and reports for years, we weren't much further along in our investigation than when we started.
That's when we got lucky. Someone in the government finally decided to take all the alien hype seriously and organized a secret, "unofficial" investigation. Unknowingly, Mulder and Scully started helping us discover the truth about really happened at Area 51. What we learned with their unwitting assistance was this: Back in 1953, the US military had, indeed, shot down two alien spacecraft. The wreckage and crew had been immediately transported to a nearby clandestine facility to be studied in secret, far from the public eye. When found, several of our crewmen were alive! Unfortunately, the paperwork of what happened to the survivors, the crew members killed by the crash, or the Calypso and orbiter, had all been destroyed. We were at a dead end again. What a frustrating, dismal end to years of painstaking effort! But then, a miracle happened. Through sheer luck, we got another lead.
One of our team had buddied up to a military officer in Nevada. One night, while off duty and camping in the desert, the officer lulled by the beauty of the stars began talking about “life out there”. He knew there was life out there. Everything those tin foil hat people said was true. He told how the military had gotten fed up battling with all the publicity and moved the entire operation from Area 51 to a new location in Dugway, Utah. To scare off any snoopers or media, they set-up the base as a testing facility for biological warfare. It was naught but a clever smoke-screen to cover up what really went on there--a continuation of research into our crew, the technology of our spacecraft, and US.
And so, in spite of all attempts to thwart our investigation, we knew the truth: of course, "aliens" HAD landed on Earth and the proof of that is now being kept in a new facility in Dugway, Utah called "Area 52."
So there, you have it. The truth has finally been revealed!
Lest there be any misunderstanding, you must believe, in spite of all you see on the big screen or read in books, we "aliens" have come here IN PEACE. WE mean no harm. The unhappy calamity that befell our team was unfortunate, but we do not hold it against your Earthlings. You knew nothing of our true nature. We do not blame you for acting defensively when faced with the unknown.
My team, now so well-acquainted with Earthlings and their, shall we say, idiosyncrasies, have been assigned to remain here permanently. Our objective is to continue on a path that will lead us to a peaceful assimilation into the human population and begin making negotiations for setting up a colony here. Our desire is not to conquer, but to live together, side by side, sharing our cultures, technology and knowledge, a win-win situation.
In our time here, we learned geocachers have a higher tolerance for what humans consider, er, odd than most others of your species. Let's face it, most of you humanoids think we are pretty odd, or even, out of this world (See we even "get" Earth humor now. You'll have to check out our joke book at our ship.) We have decided to make our first Encounter of the Third Kind with geocachers. Now that you know our story, we invite you to visit our base on Earth. We stay near Dugway in hopes of recovering our crew and ships. It's hidden in an abandoned gravel pit. We don't want to set all the brush on fire if we have to light the engines, you know. There's some strategically placed clutter to hide the ship. It should be easy for a cacher to find. You can drive to within 100 ft even if your vehicle does not have hover or 4x4 capability. Just hang a hard left as soon as you cross the cattle guard after passing the gate to Area 52. You'll see the old road to the gravel pit, even if it's a bit overgrown.
My team and I will be a bit harder to find; actually we’ll be watching. When it’s clear that you are a geocacher and mean no harm, we will reveal ourselves. Unless of course we ran to grab a quick burger. My executive officer has assimilated quite well as a Utahn and developed an addiction to fry sauce. It's a long way to a burger joint from our ship. If we miss you, leave a message in the ship's log. In case we're not there, you'll need the entry code for the ship. It's just ABCD, but you'll have to prove yourself a cacher and fill in those letters.
A = # of fins on our ship
B = # of creatures pictured having a conversation above
C = # of people exiting car when confronted by Area 51 guards in picture above
D = # of churches seen from the location of our ship
We look forward to meeting you.
5th Reinforcement Squadron
Planet Squeedo Space Militia
4th Spoke, Whoopee Cushion Galaxy
Congrats to Pip-Boy 3000 and his little pips on the FTF!!!