The tracks went up one row and down another, and in those rows the vua plants had been sheared off an inch or two above the ground. The raider had been methodical; it had not wandered about haphazardly, but had done an efficient job of harvesting the first ten rows on the west side of the field.
This is the story seed for every space opera novel ever written, from George Lucas' Star Wars to the milieu of Iain Banks' Culture novels. (Guess what I'm reading right now.) How many of these exoplanets are actually habitable? How many are orbited by habitable moons?
"You grow a whole lot more as a writer by getting old stories out of the house and letting new ones come in and live with you until they grow up and are ready to go. Don't let the old ones stay there and grow fat and cranky and eat all the food out of the refrigerator. You have dozens of generations of stories inside you, but the only way to make room for the new ones is to write the old ones and mail them off."
– Orson Scott Card, How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy