The Art of Planet Theft

The putrid smell of the planet Shinzo II was a cocktail of rotting vegetation and stagnant water. Jada's nostrils delighted in the nauseating odors after weeks of sterile, recycled air aboard the UNSF Hammarskjöld II.

She teetered on stilt shoes as she tiptoed over Shinzo II's marshy terrain. Despite days of shipboard practice, the thin stilts fabricated to avoid crushing underfoot creatures—threatened to plunge her into the spongy ground. Her agony served as a diplomatic gesture honoring the Velkori taboo against unnecessary killing.

"Your effort to honor our ways is noted and appreciated, Delegate Ling-Ortiz of the Galactic Confederation of Planets," said Oxthor, the Velkori delegation leader, his six spidery legs gliding across the terrain with a grace that highlighted Jada's struggles. His large compound eyes caught the green-tinged sunlight, fracturing it into countless glittering points. "After months of electronic communication with GCOP representatives, I find the reality of humans on Shinzo II...intoxicating. Our first true contact with an alien species!"

"The pleasure is mine," Jada replied, forcing a smile through her discomfort. A buzzing sound filled her ears before an insect stabbed her arm with its stinger. She slapped it hard.

A collective gasp erupted from the Velkori delegation. Oxthor froze mid-stride, his compound eyes focused on the remains of an iridescent insect smeared across her palm.

"You have…extinguished a life," Oxthor said, his voice laden with profound sadness. "In our culture, such an act constitutes the gravest violation."

"An instinctive reflex," Jada said, resisting the urge to wipe her palm on her jumpsuit. "I apologize. Is this species endangered? Revered?"

"All life is revered," Oxthor declared. "We Velkori are the fifth in a succession of sentient civilization to arise on Shinzo II. Our records show the fourth civilization, in their wisdom, recognized their decline and chose extinction rather than impede our eventual evolution."

He extended an arm and waited until an insect landed. "Every creature, regardless of size, carries potential for future sentience. We favor natural repellents and gentle persuasion." He delicately brushed the insect away.

"On human worlds," Jada countered, "biting insects transmit fatal diseases. My reaction wasn't callousness, but instinct."

Oxthor examined the swelling welt on her arm. "Do you require medical attention?"

Jada retrieved a spray bottle from her utility belt and spritzed the bite. "No. This solution eliminates harmful microorganisms—native bacteria and viruses invisible to the eye that might pose serious threats to human health."

"What are 'bacteria' and 'viruses'?" Oxthor asked, leaning closer.

She suppressed a smile, years of training masking her glee. This was it. The critical juncture of negotiations with a scientifically illiterate species. "Microbiology is the study of microscopic organisms. Bacteria, viruses, fungi – they're everywhere," she explained, pulling out her datapad and projecting a hologram of a bacterium. She gestured at the landscape. "They're a fundamental part of every ecosystem. Billions live on and in our bodies. Some are beneficial; others cause disease."

Oxthor's legs twitched spasmodically as he absorbed the implications. "Billions...live on and in us, subject to our continuous assaults?"

"Yes, but they multiply rapidly so it's a constant balancing act."

His voice trembled with growing horror. "I must take this information to the governing council. Please, return to your spaceship until I contact you."

Two days later, Jada received Oxthor's transmission. The Velkori's dull, clouded compound eyes and unkempt fur revealed his distress. "We have debated long and regret we cannot join your Confederation," he announced. "The knowledge you imparted…haunts us deeply. We did not know of the countless microscopic beings we have slaughtered, failing to live up to our core beliefs."

Tears welled in her eyes. "This profoundly saddens me. We've grown fond of your species. What are the next steps for our two races?"

"We have decided our continued existence poses an existential threat to countless life forms. The only logical course of action is sterilization and eventual self-eradication. The next worthy species must evolve free from our destructive influence."

The call ended.

Jada wiped away her counterfeit tears and faced the crew. Champagne corks popped throughout the UNSF Hammarskjöld II while Shinzo II's marsh-covered surface gleamed through the viewports—a pristine jewel destined as humanity's next colony.

Rory Mercier, Jada's supervisor, raised his glass. "To Delegate Ling-Ortiz, worthy heir to her family legacy and next recipient of the Sun Tzu Supreme Art of War medal for conquering a planet without firing a shot."

The crew cheered as Jada savored her champagne. "Grandmother orchestrated today's victory over her century-long career. With fifty years still ahead of her, she'll be thrilled to see humans settling here."

"Acquiring inhabited planets takes centuries," Rory said, gazing down at the planet. "Yet manipulating a species to eliminate itself is far more humane than warfare. No bloodshed, no destruction - just methodical exploitation of their cultural and religious beliefs. And perfectly legal under GCOP regulations."

Jada smiled, thinking of the family legacy. "The real hero is my great-grandmother. She laid the groundwork three hundred years ago, covertly planting fake artifacts suggesting previous civilizations had voluntarily embraced extinction."

"To your grandmothers," Rory said.

"To the next phase." She raised her glass, already anticipating the reports of Velkori population decline over the next decade. The rich oil deposits and fertile fishing grounds of Shinzo II would be humanity's soon enough.