Dreamed about for centuries,
humanity finally now knew they were not alone in the universe.
They had arrived in such a manner that our instruments detected them only three days before their arrival.
Some believed it was an attack, or a mere scouting party for a larger force, others believing the ship was actually derelict, operating on autopilot long after its occupants perished.
Soon, both those theories were put to rest as the ship landed and indeed life forms emerged from it.
But there was no diplomacy with them, no greeting of peace or aggression.
They exited their craft, the hulking oblong thing that it was and merely wandered.
For weeks and months, a half dozen of them crossed fields, climbed hills, sat in the woods, splashed in streams and just generally meandered.
They had no weapons, no advanced tools to aid in their travels, they had what appeared simple fibrous blankets, a large metallic ***, dulled by age and a single instrument with which to light fires.
Any attempt by political, military or media figures to approach them and engage with them in any communicative way failed as they showed no interest.
No one dared to try and corral them anywhere, for fear yet that it was some kind of strange survey party, one that would report back to a much large fleet or home world.
Yet after a time of a little less than a year they had returned to their ship. there was no message, no waving goodbye. They simply closed the door and after a few minutes of undoubtedly preparing their instruments they left.
The world then waited. Years, decades and centuries for another visit.
Searching, determining, where the ship had gone and from where it came.
But it's origin or destination were never located.
No subsequent visit came.