"Everything alright, Cari? You looked shocked."

"It's this small blue planet Captain, the one we're approaching. The readings I get are weird. And..."

"We're coming in hot!", declared Darel as they rapidly descended to the surface.

Crash-landing in the barren desert, the remaining survivors scrambled out of their small exploratory vassal, puzzled as to what had happened and scratched up in more ways than one.

"Where are we?", cried Cari as she stumbled haphazardly out of the wreckage, bumping into the Captain on the way.

On the surface, they were greeted by a small group of native inhabitants: unimpressed faces among them.

A man in a strange dark suit waved, and opened his mouth, expressing speech in an unintelligible way.

"Captain, do you think perhaps this might be the blue planet we were searching for all along? That they could be the humans our species encountered eons ago?", asked Cari.

Meanwhile, all the team of humans heard were high-pitched sounds, similar in tone to an organ or an archaic harp. One of them, the team leader glanced at another human while saying, "Do you believe we could intercommunicate?"

The other human, a linguist, looked upon the pale blue extraterrestrial visitors, and said, "Is it just me, or are they speaking to one another using musical notes?"

The Captain of the exploratory vessel thought about it for a second, musing, "It is strange that the planet we passed by only contained traces of ice, no life. Perhaps we did overshoot as our group leader had mentioned previously."

"You think?", cried Darel, switching to adding letters to each breath he spoke. The last language their kind had learned from the humans had been Latin.

"Are they speaking Latin?", asked a soldier, gazing at the strangers with curiosity. From what he observed, a blend of the colors white and blue covered tough, scaly skin with molted...was that feathers?

Who were these people? Where they come from? Was the ship they rode in been a UFO?

Needless to say, working at Area 51 had already been an eye-opening experience as he discovered some exoplanets did contain sentient life. However, the ones he encountered on duty had not exactly been so friendly. In fact, there was one race that currently tried to...

"Lieutenant, you are young and inexperienced. Clearly...", said the linguist, but was cut off by the team leader.

"Why would you say that?", inquired the team leader to his young subordinate, Lt. Perez.

"Well, growing up going to private school, there they taught a bit of Latin. And in between the whistles and what not, if you put together those letters...it starts to sound like Latin."

"That's a dead language, why would another species who has never encountered," started the linguist. The team leader covered his mouth, and stated, "Because their kind has been here before."

"They don't look like one of the catalogued ones that visited or died off..."

"Maybe because they didn't stay for long," reasoned the team leader as he stiffly strolled back to the lieutenant in his evening tuxedo.

"Lt. Perez?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go on radio, and ask for the base chaplain. The Catholic priest, mind you."

"Sir, permission to speak freely."

"I'm a senator, not your commanding officer. And we're here on well...you're here if anything goes wrong and they prove to be unfriendly."

"Why a priest?"

"Because I don't know anyone else who knows Latin in our neck of the woods. It's Nevada for God's Sake!"

Nodding, Lieutenant Perez radioed in the request all the while eyeing the strange group carefully. As the only active military escort in the team assigned, he felt it his duty to protect the civilians engaging with the aliens. However, it occurred to him that perhaps the aliens felt the same way-the humans foreign to their ways and understandings.

In fact, Darel protested the Captain's decision to stay on Terra Firma, and alert the primary exploratory vessel of their disembark in American territory. Their communication devices worked in a series of seconds, passing information back that the primary vessel had landed safely in the other side of this desert-Mexico.

"Of course, they land fine!", voiced Cari in disbelief. Cari, the only female of their research group, sighed, defeatedly slumping to the ground as she moaned about being stuck with Captain, a shoddy pilot at best. (Technically not his fault, as a magnetic tractor beam pulled their ship out of orbit. Those pesky humans adopted technology from extinct alien races, taking advantage of it when it suited them most. Unfortunately, the operators of this machinery would deny this adamantly.)

"Sire!", yelled the lieutenant, braking to a halt when his footsteps came too close to the senator. Sharing the same last name as his father originally meant a lot of pressure, but having gone into the military prevented the father-and-son duo from interacting with one another often. The obvious dissonance of their opinion towards the United States Armed Forces, with the Senator accusing others of warmongering anytime a soldier lifted a finger, causing an undeniable rift in their relationship.

Unfortunately, being an influential Senator from Nevada, government relations with other worlds could not be kept a secret from him. Consequently, other informed government leaders and him agreed to not disclose to the public that they were not alone in the universe.

After some time, the sleep-deprived priest, a Navy chaplain who had been dragged out of barracks early in the morning, arrived. Looking towards the strange group, he sighed. Pulling out an archaic recording device, he played back a few musical notes before settling on several in particular.

To the astonishment of all, he played the notes while incorporating letters at the end of them. For the cultured ear, it resonated as a form of Gregorian chant.

Pressing limbs together, the Captain sang back a response.

"Well, what did he say?", asked Senator Perez. If this actually worked, that meant all his forefathers who lived here for generations would be indeed blessed. If not, well he was Hispanic, not Irish. Luck was not on his side then.

"He says...he's...I'm going to translate it as...one of the bird people."

"Bird people?"

"There's no other way I can translate it properly into the English language..."

"What about other languages?", questioned the human linguist.

The priest fired back, "You're not the only polyglot here. Arabic has a closer word, but it would mean people of the air then."

"Who's to say they aren't birds? Ask them that," sarcastically remarked the linguist.

Father Benedict Worthy sang longer this time. Darel, their resident linguist, answered this time, explaining that though they grew something similar to feathers on their bodies and sported beaks for mouths, they technically could not be considered birds in Terran comprehension of the word.

"So we developed from monkeys and they from birds? Isn't that a coincidence?", snarkily said the human linguist.

Father Benedict asked their purpose here, translating their answer as, "Scientific research group."

"Really?", cried the human linguist in disbelief.

Darel said, "Our group leader, part of the team that landed in Mexico, wishes to survey Earth...as we all do. As well as..."

"As well as what?", asked the priest in a Latin Chant.

"Convince the leadership back home that requesting help from other planetary species is vital to our survival."

"Wait, what?", now asked the Senator.

"Are you perhaps in trouble?", questioned Father Benedict.

"The Epitome have...we abandoned our moon. Now...we hide on our main planet," stated Darel.

Senator Perez paled. Not again, this kept happening. How many alien species could one single empire conquer and destroy? Enough refugees currently displaced, now living in settlements in the Pacific.

Perez Sr. leaned into Benedict's ear, asking him something which the Father relayed as best as he could.

Darel answered, "Our species is isolationist in nature. Advanced technology helps us keep it that way...many, including our leaders, are reluctant to trust others for help."

Senator Perez once again told the priest what to say, and Father Benedict said, "Is this a last-ditch effort?"

"Last ditch?", asked Darel.

"Have you exhausted all your resources?", explained the Father.

"We cannot hide forever. At this rate, our planet shall be annihilated if we do not...yes," replied Darel.

"Perez?", barked the aging Hispanic senator.

"Yes, Senator," replied Perez Jr, coming to attention out of force of habit. Earning a snigger from the human linguist, and a smile from the alien linguist. Although he had come from light years away, even Darel could recognize discipline.

"Get in contact with the authorities in Mexico."

"But Sir...", objected his son. Trained as a communications officers, however, newly graduated out of college, he felt it beyond his capabilities to speak with a foreign military.

Even if he should speak Spanish.

"Tell them they'll need a priest as well."

"Right away."

Turning to see his son off, he added, "One more thing."

"What?"

"Tell them me and their leader need to..."

"What, Sir?"

"Have a nice long chat."