The First Superhuman: Rebuilding Civilization from the Moon

The Federation had never established a definitive diplomatic protocol for interacting with lower-level civilizations. This glaring oversight remained one of Jason’s biggest headaches.

In this particular case, the native inhabitants of their target planet likely possessed nuclear weapons, which posed a legitimate threat to humanity. Deciding how to approach them had become a highly complex dilemma.

The Federation’s top officials had convened multiple times, but every meeting ended in a stalemate. Everyone had their own theories, leading to endless arguments.

The council was deeply split between hawks and doves. They had proposed a few strategies, but none were particularly reliable, leaving Jason deeply unsatisfied.

The first proposed strategy was a scorched-earth approach: simply exterminate the indigenous population from orbit and seize the planet!

However, this plan was far too barbaric. Aside from a handful of military hardliners, most of the council vehemently opposed it. The Federation prided itself on being a civilized and moral society; how could they suddenly become ruthless marauders or act like The Annihilators?

Humanity was undeniably a warlike species historically, but the modern Federation was primarily governed by Senior Scientists. They weren’t bloodthirsty conquerors. Capturing a few alien specimens for scientific research was one thing, but completely obliterating an entire civilization for no good reason was another entirely.

Even when they had utilized the native Lizardmen back on Nyx, it was strictly through peaceful means like "hiring" them as labor. That interaction had inadvertently elevated the Lizardmen’s civilization, saving them from a life of starvation and freezing temperatures.

If Digg-114 truly proved to be a habitable world, did that give them the right to slaughter its native inhabitants just to claim it?

The scorched-earth strategy simply felt far too cruel.

Jason had carefully considered the implications, and he was thoroughly disgusted by the idea of systematic genocide, both morally and psychologically.

He understood that it was no small miracle for an intelligent species to evolve from basic survival to developing a thriving culture. The evolutionary path was long and brutal; even surviving the primitive stages of civilization was an incredible feat.

Naturally, if an alien species posed an existential threat to humanity, like a cosmic plague he wouldn’t hesitate to wipe them out. But the thought of an indigenous civilization peacefully living on their home soil, only for humanity to descend from the sky, butcher them, and steal their world... it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"No one enjoys senseless killing, unless they’re a complete psychopath..." Jason remarked.

"A scorched-earth approach is undeniably the most decisive and efficient option. But there would be massive internal resistance," a leading sociologist replied. He had been actively discussing these diplomatic strategies with Jason. "Our citizens have grown accustomed to peace. If the Federation suddenly orders a planetary genocide, the societal backlash could be catastrophic."

The sociologist chuckled dryly. "Of course, public opinion is a secondary concern. The real question is whether we as leaders actually have the stomach to order something like that."

Jason nodded slowly. If he genuinely forced the issue, executing a scorched-earth protocol wouldn’t be impossible. Over the years, especially following the successful launch of the Deep Space, his personal influence and authority had only grown stronger.

However, he personally despised the idea. It suddenly occurred to him that in the classic "alien invasion" movies from Earth’s golden age of cinema, the alien conquerors always had some glaring, fatal weakness so the human underdogs could miraculously win and secure a happy ending.

Now, the Federation was contemplating playing the role of those very same evil alien invaders.

He smiled faintly at the irony. If a war actually broke out, the Federation could just sit in orbit and glass the planet’s surface with low-yield, clean helium-3 tactical nukes. The chances of the primitive natives successfully counterattacking weren’t zero, but they were infinitesimally small.

If they unleashed targeted biological weapons or deployed legions of combat mechs, how could a primitive society possibly fight back?

Aside from outright genocide, the council’s second option was "assimilation" using economic dependency or cultural subversion to absorb the lower-level civilization.

The Federation already had some experience with this model and could essentially replicate their approach with the native Lizardmen. Even though humanity had long since abandoned Nyx, the assimilated Lizardmen still spoke standard human languages. Their entire way of life, societal structure, and cultural customs had been permanently reshaped by human influence.

That was the terrifying power of cultural assimilation.

"As long as the Federation maintains overwhelming technological superiority, we can easily crush a primitive society economically, taking absolute control of their vital lifelines," Jason noted.

The sociologist shook his head in disagreement. "But they would inevitably rebel, wouldn’t they? They might not dare to do it openly at first, but resentment would fester in secret. No independent species wants a sudden, uninvited overlord dictating their lives. Intelligent beings are incredibly complex; the more advanced their society is, the harder they become to subjugate."

"Because of that, assimilation has strict limitations. It only works if the target civilization is as incredibly primitive and malleable as the Nyxian Lizardmen were."

The expert sighed. "Based on our observations, this alien civilization has already developed modern science. They’ve almost certainly harnessed nuclear weapons! A society at that stage is incredibly difficult to pacify, and frankly, what would even be the point of controlling them?"

Jason nodded in agreement. "You make a fair point. Besides, the Federation isn’t suffering from a labor shortage right now, and we don’t have any massive planetary engineering projects lined up. Even if we successfully assimilated them, they wouldn’t offer us any tangible benefits."

"The average citizen of a primitive society lacks the necessary education or technical skills to be useful to us. Even if we stooped to using them as slave labor, they wouldn’t be anywhere near as efficient as our automated drones."

"And even if we invested the time to properly educate their brightest minds, we could never fully trust them."

"Are we supposed to exploit a lower-level civilization for profit through economic invasion? We don’t need their physical labor, their gold, or their basic mineral resources... When you really break it down, primitive civilizations just aren’t that useful to us."

Jason rubbed his temples, his expression deeply troubled. For the first time, he actually started to understand the cold logic of the hardliners pushing for the extermination protocol.

It would be incredibly unsettling to try and co-exist on the same planet with a volatile, lower-level civilization long-term.

As for the other proposed strategies like "direct enslavement" or "friendly cultural exchange and mutual development" they were practically impossible.

The Federation might not be a regime of bloodthirsty conquerors, but they weren’t selfless saints, either.

How could there ever be a genuine "friendly exchange"? The power dynamic was far too skewed. When the technological gap was that massive, true friendship was impossible.

Mutual development was even more absurd. Why should humanity just hand over the advanced technology they had bled and sacrificed to develop? What if the newly uplifted aliens immediately turned around and bit the hand that fed them?

Every single diplomatic strategy felt deeply flawed and fundamentally impractical.

Yet, after running in circles, these were the only options on the table. Was there truly no other way?

Jason narrowed his eyes, the weight of command pressing heavily on his shoulders. He stared at the main viewscreen, observing the star system still a light-year away. Even from this distance, it shone brilliantly against the dark void.

According to their long-range sensor data, the host star’s luminous intensity was remarkably similar to Earth’s old Sun. Furthermore, Digg-114 was situated perfectly within the star’s habitable zone and possessed two natural satellites.

And just moments ago, the astronomy department had confirmed the detection of massive concentrations of water vapor in Digg-114’s atmosphere!

It really could be a perfect, habitable new world!

Jason’s frown deepened, his mind torn by conflicting emotions.

Perhaps humanity’s old, Earth-bound moral frameworks simply weren’t applicable in the brutal reality of the interstellar age.

It wasn’t just Jason struggling to adapt to this terrifying new paradigm; the rest of the Federation was struggling as well. This widespread ideological crisis was exactly why the council was completely deadlocked. It was the very first true test for the young interstellar Federation.