[ WP ] Earth is invaded by an alien species with technology not far from our own .

I'd like to start this off by saying sorry for how long this is. It's my first post here, and it got a little long and out of hand. I hope this is something like what you were looking for. 
 
 
 
 We were so arrogant. 
 
 Many ages ago, when our species first set out on this venture, this campaign, we thought little of the so-called “ humans ”. We observed them stealthily for many years, and we thought them petty, weak, and, as they might say, “ ripe for the picking ”. We watched their squabbles over such basic resources as food, water, and their dirty, unclean fossil fuels. We watched their puny little minds being scrambled by such basic topics as fusion, cryogenics, and laser weaponry. We watched with disgust as they sent out their mind numbing, worthless broadcasts amongst themselves, and we saw how so many of them wasted away their days with nothing but greed, lust, and self-pleasure. 
 
 We thought we were so much better. We, the Gnadysenni, had come together, as one species, and created the only space faring, multi-system empire that we had knowledge of. There was perfect order, technology more amazing than we had ever thought possible, lifespans stretching millenia, and prosperity beyond belief. We had everything we needed, but we were greedy. We wanted so much more. When we found Earth, that perfect planet, inhabited by peons that were n't worth the space they took up, the decision of the council was unanimous. We invested all of our strength, intelligence, power in making the long trip to Earth. It had all our species needed, it would be a utopia, and all we needed to do was cleanse it of these vile humans. 
 
 We assembled a massive armada. Thousands upon thousands of fighters, hundreds of massive ships of all types, and to top it off, the YWG Arhun, the largest capital ship we had ever created. And for the invasion itself, hundreds of thousands of drones and armored vehicles, and millions of infantry. We left our home worlds poor, destitute, and stripped of wealth and resources to make the instrument with which we would annihilate these vermin. But we had bit off more than we could chew. 
 
 The journey was long and dangerous. We ran low on resources, and parts that had been rushed into service against the urges of our engineers and scientists broke. Airlocks failed. Fusion drives exploded. The new collision detection analyzers crashed and let asteroids through our shields. We lost 10,000 Gnadysenni in a single incident when a botched calculation set the battleship YWG Awaas on a course plotted directly through a planet. Morale plummeted, and everyone was miserable. 
 
 When we finally arrived, the invasion seemed to start well. The humans were not prepared. They had no central authority to guide them, and complete chaos ensued. Our airstrikes obliterated several of their more important governments within hours of arrival. Our forces seemed unstoppable when they secured the planned staging areas across the planet within a week. Their counterattacks were poorly organized and executed, and were easily crushed. Within a month, half of their pathetic countries had broken down. Rioting and looting struck almost all of their major cities. They had lost hope. But then... something changed. 
 
 Maybe they realized that if we had wanted to, we could have blown the planet to bits, and that we wanted to take Earth for ourselves. Maybe it was just their “ human nature ”. Whatever their reasons, it confounded all of us when they unified. All of their surviving leaders came together somewhere, hidden away from our drones, and agreed to work together. They hid themselves where we were not looking. They dug in. They shared resources and information freely. Groups of the humans that had been killing each other for centuries fought together in the same trenches and hid together in the same underground complexes. They began to slow, and even halt, our advances across the planet. Years passed. More and more gnadysen were sent back offworld to be cremated. 
 
 I will never forget the day I lost hope. I remember it vividly. It was an assault on a tunnel complex that the humans had dug and fortified somewhere in the area they call Eastern Europe. There were only about 800 human fighters against a force of 15,000 gnadysen. It should have been routine. At the beginning of this cursed war, it would have been. My unit chased them into the caves. And then... nothing. Our armor's sensors found no trace of them. We thought they had just failed or maybe they had retreated, so we pushed on into the main plaza of the complex. It was huge, and I remember thinking about how much they had advanced in engineering techniques since we had invaded. Then... then the laser fire started. 
 
 I could see their weapons blasting from their hidden positions. They were crude, they were about as unsophisticated as laser cannons could be, but they were deadly. We should have been able to destroy them, but something about the situation, the fact that they had not only reverse-engineered our weaponry but jammed our own sensors made us tremble with terror. And we ran. They cut us down by the thousands. Some brave Gnadysenni tried to storm their positions, but the humans fought with such ferocity, such tenacity, it was hopeless. The humans fired and chased us until their lasers ran out of energy. Then they used their projectile weapons. Then they used knives, and then fists. I saw a particularly large human beat my commander's face into a pulp of purple blood and orange flesh with a metal pipe. And I fled. 
 
 At the beginning of this invasion, we could not have expected the humans to design a virus capable of wiping out swathes of our forces. We could not have expected them to push us off of their world entirely. We could not have expected them to steal the cloaking technology and we had been working on, combine it with their own experimentation, and cloaked all of their remaining primitive space shuttles with it. Nor could we have expected that when we finally sounded the retreat, and gave up our ambitions, that those shuttles would be waiting for us. They were outfitted with the fusion drives they had engineered based off of our designs, and sat cloaked a safe distance from Earth, with kilotons upon kilotons of the nuclear weapons they had been too afraid to use on their precious home. We had thought that these humans who had not yet achieved our level of technology were below us in every way. We were too arrogant. We were to proud. We were too vain. 
 
 I believe I am the only survivor. I watched as the Arhun, the Myafsa, the Colz, and the rest of the fleet disintegrated before my eyes. My fighter was saved by pure luck; I had been ordered to stay back from the fleet and make sure that we were not leaving anyone behind. Still, the fighter was beyond repair. There is no way I could have made it to Alpha Centauri in this thing, let alone all the way home. 
 
 I set my course for Earth. Even though it is most likely certain death, I must take my chances. Even though they destroyed everyone else, I can not fault them for it. We brought this upon ourselves. We thought ourselves gods. We thought that we had every right to take this beautiful planet from them. And we did not understand how much they were capable of. 
 
 I even admire them. They may not be as advanced, but they make up for it in ingenuity, in adaptability, in determination. They are certainly not perfect, but they are not the monsters we saw through eyes clouded by prejudice and hatred. I have seen them fight ferociously to protect others, when men outnumbered twenty to one held their positions long enough to evacuate civilians during the assault on Geneva. I have seen them sacrifice everything for the good of their people, like the forty of them who gave their lives to steal the cloaking technology. I have seen how they can exhibit compassion and caring, in the combat medics in Africa that risked their lives more than any Gnadysenni would ever dream, running across fields of death, for their wounded brethren. Maybe they can succeed where my race failed so spectacularly. 
 
 I must warn them of what we were too blind to see. I must convince them to show compassion, to overlook their own greed, pride, and differences, and to use their new-found dominance for good and for peace. I must try to make them understand why we attacked them, and how they can avoid what befell the once great and mighty Gnadysenni. If I can, perhaps the universe will be a better place, with humanity at its forefront. 
 
 The fighter has crash-landed. Roswell, New Mexico. What a coincidence. Now I must wait. 
 
 They have come. I can hear the footsteps drawing nearer. I can hear their whispered chatter. A squad, no more than a dozen. Their speech sounds so different from my own. They all speak the same language, but I can hear accents in their voices from places all around Earth. American, Russian, Chinese, French, and several more. They are surely all united now, by the bonds forged in the fires of the invasion. 
 
 What will they do when they open the hatch? I am unsure. Perhaps they will kill me. Perhaps not. In either case, my time for recording this is over. In the case that I do not survive, this message has been stored in the fighter's computer systems, and I made a physical copy, just in case. To whoever reads this, human, Gnadysenni, or any other species, please learn from the mistakes that were made by my species. 
 
 This is R'shyan As'Olo Fasya, last surviving member of the Earth Expeditionary Armada, Serial Number 01542532931238, signing off.
