DRAGON'S DEN by Terri Branson

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CHAPTER 1:

T’PANABAR, world of ice, isolation, and intrigue.
Raza propped his backside against a sturdy metal railing and then lazily crossed his arms at his chest. Temple masters were not usually sent to greet transports. However, the occupants of this particular incoming vessel fell far outside the range of business as usual. And Raza never passed up an opportunity to visit the planet’s only city, Karatoura.
He exhaled an impatient sigh and tried to see through the metallic latticework that supported the spaceport’s forty-story glass-like dome. A permanent skin of ice coated the exterior while moisture clung to the interior. Between the two, all Raza could make out of nearby Karatoura to the west was a fuzzy jumble of color.
A faint mechanical tinkling echoed through the interior, as sleet once again peppered the dome. The spaceport was like a gigantic terrarium. Hundreds of shelf planters, placed throughout the port’s many levels, were fed by special lights. Fragrant, flowering vines trailed over the walls and worked tirelessly to convert carbon dioxide into oxygen, resulting in more vines, more flowers. The air was an oxygen-rich discordant mixture of flora and space age civilization.
The planet T’Panabar was midway through its cyclic 5,000-year ice age. Even at this equatorial latitude, the temperature did not rise above freezing until midday. Then, as soon as the sun set each evening, the landscape crystallized into a frozen wasteland that could be crossed only in space-worthy transports.
Raza narrowed his eyes and tried to determine whether the dusk had arrived. The sleet suggested that official sunset had not yet occurred beyond a heavy quilt of storm clouds. He could not remember the last time he had a good view of Mekara, the solar system’s reddish-gold sun that also warmed his home planet. Nor when he had last seen Merrerra, the blue-violet and magenta banded gas giant that occupied the orbit just inside of T’Panabar.
In many ways, Raza considered T’Panabar a cage of ice. Too long it had kept him from the verdant landscapes and bustling cities of his native Eshkara, the primary world of the powerful Eshkalle who ruled the solar system. It had been three years since he had been home. Three years since accepting a teaching position at Talakara Temple, which translated in the old Tarman dialect meant “Dragon’s Den.”
It was a prestigious and coveted assignment. The Rejer, himself, had offered the job. How could Raza have said no to the elected Prince Dragon of the Toa Kara, the leader of the Council of Lords and military commander of the Sooran Guard? It was an honor to be chosen and a boon for House Kalandyn. Therefore, Karazamon “Raza” Toa Kalandyn had graciously accepted a five-year position as Master of Martial Arts at Talakara Temple on T’Panabar.
Since then he had been counting the days until he could go home.

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