Plovians

Some dozens of light years closer to the rim of the galaxy, within the galactic arm occupied by our own insignificant planet, lies the world of Plovia. It is similar to Earth in many respects — similar enough that the joys of parallel evolution led to the dominance of bipedal humanoids with external characteristics very similar to humans. These people, of a variety of cultures and religions and races, had a history very similar to our own, over a period of time similar to our own. The largest differentiation was that a large empire grew just when the world was on the cusp of a technological revolution, and grew and grew, and never stopped, eventually conquering three of the worlds five major land masses through a combination of determination, efficiency and persistent use of expanding technological innovation.
    This empire eventually fell, corrupted from within and beset from without by the primitive but energetic forces of the other continents. Still, its existence had already had such an impact that despite our similar physical and intellectual make up, and the slight edge in time that Terrans had as tool using, farming individuals, Plovians technology and invention far outstripped ours. For an example, imagine that Rome hadnít stopped expanding, then had the Industrial Revolution while still vibrant and engaged in conflict with China.
    In the wake of the imperial collapse, several smaller racial and geographic factions began vying for control of the remnants of the empire, and engaged in hot, cold and political wars with one another over the centuries, ensuring a perpetual conflict and need for growth. Seeing no way out of the struggle, one of these factions began actively pursuing space-flight but came to the realization that there was nowhere in system to go: the Plovian system has 5 planets — one small body on an elliptical orbit that takes it far too close to the sun, Plovia, two gas giants and one distant rock. Sure they could land on their or the gas giant moons, but there was nothing terraformable — no new space.
    "So what," many said. "There probably isnít intelligent life elsewhere anyway. Faster than light travel is impossible, so we'll just stay here, where we belong." [Being an un-evolved race in the Pellambran sense, and far away from anything of value, the Plovians had made no contact with the Galactic Council.] Such sentiments were prevalent and, regrettably, they seemed accurate. Plovian scientists had developed theories that might lead to the existence of space-folding drives, if far enough from a gravitational body, if everything worked right, but there was no more impetus to test these theories than there was to build solar sails or generational vessels.
    Then the ecology started to collapse. Pellambrans had been becoming darker in skin tone generation after generation, their ozone layer ever so slowly stripped away by misused technology, their bodies adapting as a result. There were cries of concern, but who listened? Nothing was ever going to totally fall apart — weíll go on forever. Like a machine subjected to too much stress over too long a time, the planets bio-sphere started breaking down: flora and fauna dying, global warming, new diseases, pollution at an unexpected high. Even then there were some who would dance as Rome burned, but the militaries of several countries banded together in a sudden coup and seized control of the planet, no longer trusting politicians and diplomats to save the world — they had sworn oaths to defend their people against any threat, and this was a threat, the greatest they had ever faced.
    That was over 150 years ago. The Plovian military stayed in control, driving the planetís people to find ways to conserve, adapt, survive, while the scientists worked on ways to escape the dying world or overcome it. The former came before the latter. Space-folding technology proved viable, and probes were sent out to find new worlds while the gas giants and their moons were stripped to provide the ships that would be needed to escape. Plovian astronomers knew several systems that could have planets that might support life, but their needs were specific — better to keep looking for a closer match than condemn half the race to extinction while filling the ships with imprecise terraforming materials to change an imperfect world. They were spared the decision, as the 11th probe returned with coordinates of a green/blue world in a large multi-bodied star system.
    Construction of the ships reached a fever pitch, but nearly too late — the world began its final collapse. Of a world that in its glory once contained 14 billion souls, only 2 billion made it into the ships, with more than 6 billion dying in the last seven years. The word holocaust barely begins to do it justice. Say the word death on every heartbeat of a human life and you begin to approach comprehension of the devastation.
    Those that had survived were trapped in the ships that would be their home for generations, needing to get half a light year from the star before the space folding drive could be engaged, only to arrive half a light year from the outskirts of their target system. The survivors were all that remained of four thousand years of history, their minds, computers and souls the last remnants of a once living and vibrant world. Everything behind them was dead. This was over 20 years ago.
    When the Plovians appeared outside the Sol system in 1972, declining birthrate and failures in the cryogenic sleep tubes used to store the population not needed for flight dropped their numbers to 1.5 billion. They discovered the worst thing imaginable — their target world was inhabited. The Military kicked into full gear —they had not come all this way to turn away, and look, the people were primitives: fission weapons, infantile computer technology, no space flight to speak of, and they were poisoning their atmosphere! Idiots! Damn it all — they were not going to die here! They would take that world! The Plovians, after generations of military discipline, geared up for war; some eager for the chance; some thinking their stewardship would help Earth, some just desperate. Whatever their motives, war was coming.

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