First off, thanks to @Nyota's Heart, @Jedi_Lover, @Lady_Misty, @Gemma, @Revan_AnakinSolo, @windu4, and anyone else I may have forgotten, for reading my sprink break story. Special thanks to @Force Smuggler for suggesting the idea of a ski trip to follow it. * * *Ben Skywalker pulled on his shirt, sweater, parka, gloves, heavy thermal underwear and pants, two layers of socks, his boots, a scarf, and a pair of goggles. He looked at himself in the mirror and groaned. He looked like a giant blue marshmallow; he supposed he should be thankful his parka was not white. Shrugging, he turned, clasped his lightsaber onto his belt, and grabbed his hover-skis. "Why can't we go back to Spira?" he grumbled to himself. "Hoth. Who wants to go to Hoth? 'Hover-skiing will be fun,' Dad said. 'It'll provide opportunity for physical exercise while we're on vacation.' 'Yes,' the Jedi Council said, 'that sounds good!' I can't believe this. The dead of winter, and we're going to the coldest planet in the galaxy." Still grumbling, he forced himself out of his cramped quarters on the Star Tours star liner taking them to Hoth, wincing as the skis caught on the door. He jerked them several times before they finally came out. He attached them to his backpack and looked out the viewport. Hoth hung below, a bright white jewel amidst the black of space. Ben had never been to Hoth, despite his father's repeated telling of his adventures on Hoth, and the Rebel Alliance's abandoned Echo Base. All Ben knew was, he hoped the ski resort the Galactic Alliance had built had been sure to clear out the wampas in the area first, or there were going to be some very unhappy Jedi vacationers on their hands. Walking down the Starspeeder's cramped hallways, Ben passed several other Jedi who waved greetings at him. Ben waved in return, pushing through the crowd. He was headed for Seha's quarters. He wondered what her snow outfit would look like. Whatever it was, it would cover entirely too much of her skin for his taste; she looked best when her petite body could breathe. Bundled in a parka...well, she'd still look glorious. Better than Ben did, anyways. He knocked on her door. "Seha? It's me." * * * The shadowy figure did not tell Seha its name, but she knew it. It was Vestara Khai. She knew it because Jaina had told her, and Seha had kept it to herself all this time, never telling Ben. She wondered now if that had been a mistake. Vestara was clad in black leather pants, a crimson shirt, and a black vest. She held a glass shikkar knife in one hand and a lightsaber in the other. She was fighting Ben. Seha ran toward them, hoping to save Ben. She ignited her lightsaber, its blue blade shining in the darkness around them. Seha slashed at Vestara, and suddenly the Sith witch jumped in the air, and Seha's blade bit deep into Ben's chest. Seha watched, horrified, as Ben dropped to the ground, struggling for breath. "Finish him, Seha," Vestara snarled. "Now!" Seha wanted to tell her no, to make her stop. "Yes, Mistress," she said instead. She slashed downward, her lightsaber neatly decapitating Ben. Vestara laughed an evil, throaty laugh, and Seha laughed with her. Vestara put her hands on Seha's shoulder. "Now, there is nothing to stop us from ruling the galaxy!" Seha awoke screaming, as she always did. The dream was different, sometimes. Always the same events happened, but Seha herself was different. Sometimes, as this time, she had worn her Jedi robes and carried her own blue blade. Sometimes, she wore Vestara Khai's outfit and carried a red blade, her eyelids tattooed with the horrible black swirls that Vestara wore. And sometimes, she was a frightening amalgam of both, her Jedi robes black, a red lightsaber in one hand and a blue one in the other, a Sith tattoo over her left eye. Seha wasn't sure which dream disturbed her more. No matter what, though, they were always nightmares, and there was nothing Seha could do to stop herself from killing Ben. The dreams did not come every night; sometimes it was only once a month, sometimes as many as twice a week. One horrible week, she'd had the dream five nights in a row. "Seha?" Ben called. "Are you awake? You'd better hurry; we'll be touching down soon!" Seha remembered. The ski trip! Scrambling out of bed, she pulled on her wool shirt, snow pants, and sweater. Then she clipped her lightsaber to her belt, grabbed her boots, parka, gloves, and skis, and ran out the door. Ben looked at her, surprised. "You all right, Seha?" he asked. "The dreams again," she explained. She never told him what they were about, though. Ever. "They've been getting worse. More...real." "I'm sorry," he replied, gripping her in a warm hug. "Maybe you should tell my dad about it; I'm sure he could help." Seha considered. Could she trust Master Skywalker not to tell Ben? Of course she could, she told herself. She was his aide; everything that passed between them was confidential unless stated otherwise. "All right," she said. "I will. Tonight." She kissed him on the lips. "I love you." "Love you too." He smiled. "Now, you'd better finish dressing; we'll need to go forward to strap down soon." "Okay." Ben walked toward the sitting room, and Seha sat down on the hall floor, pulling her boots on. She stared out at Hoth, and suddenly in the middle of the planet she saw a brief flash of light brown hair, tattooed eyes. She grunted and held her head. "Why is this happening to me?" she wondered fearfully.