Proper Planetary Cleansing Protocol

20260222

Written for Bradley Ramsey’s “Flash Fiction February Day 22”.

“They want another extension?” Galactic Council Head Chaa scoffed, leaning back in her chair and shaking her head. “We gave those convicts three hundred thousand years on a stable planet abundant with resources, and all they had to do was form a peaceful society. If they haven’t managed it yet…”
“Hm.” Chief Analytics Nama steepled his fingers. “Some of these reports do indicate improvement amongst the most problematic demographics, and subsequent return to form for the better performing demographics.”
“Far from convincing improvement.” War Chief Galla pointedly drummed their fingers on the terminal which, when activated by the general vote, would commence the bombardment. “Besides, they’ve come very close to violating their containment. We gave clear instructions not to leave their planetary belt-”
“They claim they didn’t know about that.”
“Pardon? We’ve told them repeatedly over the past ten thousand years!”
“Yeeees, something about record loss.”
“Across the entire planet?”
“Apparently.”
“Another indicator they’re incapable of joining civilised peoples.”
“And now this ‘united nations’ group is spamming us.”
“Get an intern on it.”
War Chief Galla huffed. “We’re wasting time we could spend assisting working planets. Let’s just sterilise this one and get the reseeding crew on it, so we can-“
“Protocol states the convicts get a full planetary cycle to make peace with their death.” Galactic Council Head Chaa said sternly.
“Which many of them are.” Chief Analytics Nama stroked his chin. “We’re observing an outpouring of communal grief and attempts to eke out what goodness they can in the allotted time.”
“As well as riots and other grasping last-second unpleasantness.”
“All species contain multitudes.” Chief Analytics Nama shrugged. “I propose that, since we are waiting the stipulated planetary cycle, we treat this as a secret test of character. If the majority of their global population behave nobly, in a civically minded fashion, we grant them the extension they requested. If not-”
“We cleanse the galaxy of their incompetent, selfish genes and get on with something meaningful!” War Chief Galla thumped their fist on the chair arm and nodded vigorously. “One last sporting chance.”
Galactic Council Head Chaa pulled up a formal vote, which was swiftly completed. Strong majority in favour.
“Very well. We will grant the inhabitants of… what do they call it now? ‘Earth’ one last chance to prove they are capable of joining civilisation.”

Prompt was “All around the world one day, a broadcast takes over televisions, phones, radios, and other devices to deliver a simple message: Earth is a galactic prison, and humanity are its prisoners. The galactic council has sentenced humanity to death upon reviewing our actions over the last 300,000 years. The execution will commence in twenty-four hours…”