Cybra

"There weren't always dragons in the valley. Those fire-belching serpents were mostly known only to roam on Terra, Earth. Not here, not on Cybra, and certainly not in a town like Aldan. The audacity. We are a noble and peaceful civilization. Not some water gulping, carbon exuding, solid food consuming, earthling."

Malador, an old, exhausted, yet ever-aging Cybraten Elder, wrinkles his forehead and frowns in disapproval. "Just because our world is in the Galaxy closest to the Earthlings does not mean we are responsible for anything that transpires in that realm. True, we are a far more advanced and capable civilization, and we do reside on one of the most beautiful planets known to life forms in the entirety of the universe. We have kept to ourselves and held our peace as well as unity. I'd like it to stay that way."

Cybratens are an exciting species unlike any other in all the known universe. While their lifestyle is similar to that of humans, the Cybraten people have mastered the secret of how to live in true peace and harmony. Malador feels the new High Council of his sacred planet has not kept Cybra's ancestral traditions. Malador waves his hand in a demanding fashion and commands an object he calls Pendelum. A pipe-like gadget glides through the air and into his hand. The elder places the item in his mouth and inhales a minty scented mist.

"Mampi, please. It's not all that bad. Try to view it as an advancement in our population."

Milan, Malador's seed, tries to calm her agitated Mampi down. At the age of just 20 meltron, Milan is one of the youngest seeds on the planet. She has not quite reached full growth, which is indicated by a fully developed branch split and is usually completed by age 50, but her fiery attitude has gotten her in trouble with the elders many times. She believes that it is part of her learning curve and should be appreciated. Seeds are the offspring of Cybratens and are called seeds until they reach total growth. Mampi's are seed protectors. Both female and male Cybratens are granted one seed per life. It is their obligation and sole purpose to train and protect their seeds. Female Cybratens are meant to raise male seeds, and male Cybratens are taught to raise female seeds. It keeps the balance and harmony according to ancestral rules. While their younger generation is much more open to communication and interaction with earthlings and other species of the galaxies, the elder community, such as Malador, is very opposed to the idea of attention from any galactic neighbor. Especially from a planet like earth. Though Milan tries to point her Mampi's mental state in a more positive direction, Malador continues his rant streak.

"In my younger years, this would never have happened. Leadership is nothing like it used to be. All this "we have to invite diversity" is a bunch of dinlog if you ask me! But then, of course, we don't say dinlog anymore either. It's offensive to the Gobbletrots. They should have stayed on their part of the Galaxy and kept their problems to themselves." Milan correctively interrupts: "You are using a living creature's excrement as a curse word, Mampi. Of course, it is offensive."

The slightly annoyed Seedling hovers to the Music station and turns on a very low-frequency sound. The humming vibration tends to calm Mampi's agitation. She takes some herb out of a jar from a nearby shelf, hovers toward Malador, and takes his Pendelum to refill it with the shredded leaves. He nods in a grateful manner, points one of his long fingers at Milan, and warns: "Seedling, if we cannot contain the coming chaos, our race as we know it will be extinct. Mark my words." Milan rolls her eyes and hovers into her resting station to grab a book.

Cybratens are a unique-looking species. They favor Nagas, being that their bodies are long and slim, but their bottoms are split into branches that glide with such a subtle calmness. To a Cybraten, it's as instinctive as breathing. Cybratens bodies never touch the ground. One could say they resemble a humanoid, serpentine hybrid-like being. Their faces are much like earthlings. Many say that ancestors went to earth and "mingled." Most of these mesmerizing creatures' shimmer in a brownish marble-toned pattern, but different shades of Cybratens have been spotted here and there. The distinguished difference between female and male Cybratens is the number of arms attached to their slim bodies.

Females are limited to only four, while the male Cybraten may has up to eight. Aside from Cybratens being a highly advanced species, they are also very traditional. Generally, this species is known to be of a gentle nature. They can reach the age of approximately 800 meltrons in Earth cycles, which would be 8000 years. Their homes are beautiful huts and are referred to as Harves. Because of the enormous proportions of Cybratens, they can easily reach a height of ten feet; their Harves are gigantic in size. Covered in various plants that grow on Cybra, these homes look magnificent. All the colors on Cybra are unusually bright. The leaves surrounding the domains of the natives are one of the most vibrant, deep shades of green. Within their habitat are areas appointed to the seed and their protector, where they enter a resting stage throughout different times of the day to regenerate. Generally, Harves are not very spacious, being that Cybratens are mostly active outside of their domain. Their main activities consist of researching various historical occurrences. Aladan consists of a population of seedlings, scholars, protectors, and elders, which are also protectors in rare cases. Scholars are Cybratens anywhere between the ages of 300 and 500 meltrons, while the elders are 500 and up. They are responsible for ninety percent of all research done in the city. Elders are only called to order when the High Council, consisting of five scholars and 5 protectors, cannot reach an agreement concerning essential decisions.

The entire planet and its inhabitants live on an energy source called Ecaep, which is focused and harnessed by a crystal that only exists on Cybra. It's mighty and one of Malador's most significant concerns.

Because it is of no use to any other planet known in the Galaxy, Cybra's source has never been endangered in the past. Yet some elders, such as Malador, believe that the crystal should be guarded at all times. Milan returns from her resting station and settles in a cozy corner to start reading. Thinking that her Mampi is done babbling, she opens her book and takes a deep relaxing breath. Sadly Malador had no intention of ceasing the movement of his Eceap flaps.

"Stop being so prejudiced towards other beings, Malador," they said. "You really should be more open-minded and welcoming," they said. Dinlog! Nothing but dinlog! I pride myself on being traditional and upholding our values! All this new nonsense like walking? Who does that? We are not meant to walk. If the High Council does not soon come to their senses, I'm telling you, we all might just end up like our Galactic neighbors on Mars, and we all know what happened to them. One tiny earthling set foot on that globe because the Marslings thought it would be in the best interest of everyone to be "open-minded" and take advantage of the resources offered to them. What was it? Electiti or Relicity…Who cares? It took precisely 10 meltron for the earthlings to start a war, dominate each other, and decimate the entire planet with their primitive combustion technology. Has anyone ever told them that all it takes is a small pantonizer to extinguish civilization as a whole without harming the entire planet? Obviously not. Now we are stuck with the rest of the Marslings who survived. At least we didn't have to build Methelium converter mask devices for them to function on our amazing planet. Unlike the Gobbletrots." Milan lowers her head in defeat as her Mampi continues his rant:

"And I don't care how many times they tell us it isn't a danger for us. What if the Methelium leaks out of their masks and slowly poisons us all? Yes, that's what I thought. Nobody wants to view different perspectives, but I'm the closed-minded one. As if we don't have enough on our plates, now we have dragons. One can only hope that they'll extinguish faster than they did on earth. A mere 100 meltron, and at the beginning of human civilization. I'd be about 879 meltron. I'd rather not endure them that long. But if I absolutely have to…."

His endless babbling is interrupted by a loud rumbling as though a meteor had hit the planet. Screaming and white flashes pass by the window like awnings of the Malador's and Milan's Harve.

"Mampi!" Milan speedily glides to her protector as he meets her and protectively places himself in front of her. "Do not leave this domain. I shall return," Malador instructs his Seedling. He rushes to the door, and as he opens it, he is swept away by an enormous beast of a creature. Milan tries to grab him but is unsuccessful in her attempt. She sobs and screams: "Mampi! Noooo!" as she tries to follow him but is caught by debris from the raging flames around her. She watches the giant creature fly off into the dark as it's holding on to Malador with its giant claws. The creature's wings are slowly disappearing into the void, and Milan is hovering over the ashes of the surrounding domains. A neighboring female Mampi approaches her and guides Milan back into her Harve. She looks at her in sympathy and explains: "You know I am not allowed to take you in, but…We will find him, young Seedling." Milan is unable to speak. Her heart is in agony, and between utter confusion as to what just took place and the despair of the unknown, the young seed hovers towards the back of the Harve until she reaches a metal sliding door that seems old and ancient. Milan struggles to open the resisting entrance and manages to finally pry the doors open after a few harsh pulls. Dust ascends from the ground and causes Milan to cough a few times before she can breathe clearly. She waves tiny particles in the air away from her face, looks around, takes a deep breath, and vows with tears welling in her eyes and an angry trembling voice: "Dragons! If it's a war you want, it is war you'll have!"