Chapter Twenty-One: In Pursuit of Happiness

"You know what I need?" Chloe said, one morning, as Matty poured steaming tea into their cups.

"What?"

"A vacation."

"Good idea. Except for the whole galactic war thing. Might... you know, make it a teensy bit difficult."

"There's no harm in dreaming."

"In your case young lady, I think you'll find it is. But you want to know what will work just as well?"

"Cryogenic suspension?"

"A night out."

"Oh. Well, I guess so… as long as it's somewhere quiet. Not a dance club or anything."

But Matty was already halfway to her bedroom. "That reminds me," she called back. "I picked a present up for you on my travels."

Chloe followed her cautiously. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

Rooting through her half-unpacked suitcase, Matty snorted. "Because you have a downer on life at the moment, but don't worry, because I have an extremely good feeling about..." She pulled out a package wrapped in bright red tissue paper and deposited it in Chloe's hands. "This."

Chloe opened the parcel, and frowned. "You want me to dress like a street walker?"

"Nonsense. It's fashion, darling. The very latest V'eeni di M'eeni."

"Who-di-who?" Chloe held up the scraps of silver material, trying to work out which was a top and which was a skirt before noticing Matty was pulling out something else. Something very purple. "And what's that?"

Matty grinned, advancing towards her. "Let me show you. Hold very still."

She worked carefully, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. "A good wig is the best confidence-booster, and they're all the rage this season." She spun Chloe to the ornate over-sized mirror propped up opposite her bed. "Wearing this, you can be anyone you want."

Chloe inspected her reflection, tilting her head and watching in wonder as the stranger in the mirror tipped their violet-hued head, waist-length locks of glossy artificial hair swinging in response. She could be an actress… a dancer… or more importantly someone very not Chloe O'Brian. And that, she realised, was exactly what she needed.

"See?"

Chloe smiled. "I love you, Matilda Jakks."

Matty primped her hair. "I know. Now, scented bath. Glass of wine. Make-up, nails, aforementioned high couture dress and wig. Then we'll hit the town and dance till we drop, or until you wipe Obi-Wan Kenobi out of your mind, whichever's first. How's that for a Jedi mind trick?"

Chloe crossed her eyes. "Obi-who?"

Matty beamed. "That's my girl."

"How you doing?" Matty mouthed, only a foot away but almost inaudible over the thumping base of the music blasting across the club.

"Fantastic!" Chloe yelled back, downing her drink and holding out her hand to let Matty pull her back to the throng of bodies.

Matty grinned and twirled under Chloe's arm, her bright red wig bouncing to the beat of the music.

Chloe closed her eyes as she danced, relishing the sensation of letting go completely, responding to the rhythm without thought or worry about how badly coordinated she might look, feeling the emotion of the music, and not caring about anything else.

They danced. They drank, and they danced some more. Half a dozen sweet catzoa cocktails later, back at the bar, Matty leaned in to Chloe's ear. "Two guys behind us, the taller one's been looking your way for the last twenty minutes."

Chloe looked around, noticed the tall young man: his messy, spiky dark blonde hair, his fashionable black tunic.

"You want them to come over?" Matty said. "Ah—too late. They didn't need much encouragement."

"Never mind," Chloe slurred, realising the alcohol might have affected her more than she'd thought. Damn those sugary cocktails...

Matty looked at someone behind Chloe's back, flashing that perfect, inviting smile. "Hi." She nudged Chloe until she turned round.

"Oh. Hi,"Chloe said.

The tall man smiled, showing beautifully white teeth. He reached out to take Chloe's hand, kissing it instead of shaking it. Her mood was lubricated by liquor and emboldened by her costume, so instead of feeling awkward, as she normally would, she giggled and smiled up at him. His eyes were a fetching shade of pale green, his skin very pale, his smile a little nervous. He was young, she thought. Younger than her.

"I'm Brock," he said.

"I'll just be over there," Matty whispered into her ear. "Have fun."

"Oh, but I don't want…"

But Matty had gone, and Brock was watching her, waiting for something. "Oh," Chloe said, "I mean… hi. Nice to meet you. I'm ..., um Electra."

"So, can I get you another drink? Or perhaps you might like to dance?"

Chloe's eyes rested on the pale skin at the open throat of his shirt. Conversation was not what she needed, and he seemed nice enough. "Dance. Let's go."

Lost in the music once again, buzzing from the alcohol and sugar mix, Chloe closed her eyes, forgetting her worries, her unhappiness, her neuroses. She felt Brock's hands on her hips, lightly first, then a little more confident, and the contact felt good. As the music changed tempo, slowing to a swaying rhythm, he pulled her closer, until their bodies met. She laughed, just about to prise him away when he dipped his head and planted his lips against hers, pushing her mouth open almost immediately and thrusting his tongue inside.

Just a kiss, and yet it was horrible. A sudden invasion, an imposed intimacy that assumed so much, that felt unequivocally wrong. Chloe shoved him away, swaying drunkenly while he looked down at her, confused and a little annoyed.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, feeling sick as she realised the taste of bitter ale on her tongue had come from the inside of his mouth. "That was a mistake. I can't. I... just… can't."

Now Brock looked even more annoyed. Mumbling another apology Chloe turned sharply and headed off into the crown, searching desperately for Matty.

She found her at the bar, alone.

"Hey. Where's loverboy?"

Chloe shook her head, still feeling queasy. "I need to get out of here."

Matty slipped off the bar stood. "Okay. Come on. You're looking a little the worse for wear. Let's go."

Outside, they trudged together through the neon-lit streets, arms linked, thick coats keeping out the cool, damp night air.

"Hey, let's try in here."

"The Ambassador?" Chloe said, raising an eyebrow at the elegant black frontage of one of Coruscant's most exclusive bars. "Dressed like this?"

Matty tutted. "It's designer, remember? And besides, I know one of the doormen."

"Now why does that not surprise me."

"I worked with his mother once. One of those family tragedy stories, multiple siblings in the military, killed within days of each other. He was the only one left, so he got brought back. Ah. There he is." She stepped right up to the front of the queue. "Hey Milo."

The stocky, crop-haired doorman took a second to recognise her, but when he did, the smile transformed his features into something much less intimidating. "Miss Jakks! What brings you here?"

"Any chance you could squeeze us into the Balcony Bar?"

Milo looked behind him, then down the line, before nodding and ushering them inside. "Just keep clear of the Rivoli Suite. Big function going on, strictly private, no journalists allowed, even if they are off duty. More than my job's worth, and all that."

Matty smiled. "Don't worry. We're not here to spot celebs. Won't even notice them."

The bar, which had a panoramic view of the Coruscant skyline, was exquisitely decorated, artfully lit, and played a tasteful selection of music. Chloe relaxed into her deep, plush seat and sipped her pale violet, slightly sparkling, non-alcoholic cordial.

"Are you all right?" Matty said. "You've been very quiet since we got here."

"I think I'm too old for making out with random boys. Especially ones who kiss like that."

"Bad, eh?"

"I couldn't stand it. I'd forgotten what it could be like. Obi-Wan was—" She stopped herself.

"So he was good in bed," Matty scoffed. "I guessed as much. I knew there had to be a payoff, somewhere, for you. But there are plenty more out there, believe me."

"I think I'm done with all men for a long time. That way there'll be no danger of unfortunate comparisons."

"Good idea."

Chloe shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Hey, you didn't spot the bathroom on the way in, did you? I'm beginning to regret all those cocktails."

"Actually, no."

"Since we're not supposed to be here, and since you're much better than me at looking like you know where you're going when you don't have a clue, fancy helping me find it?"

When a leisurely promenade of the room hadn't been successful, they decided to extend their search to the foyer. There they found the facilities, but on the way out they managed to take a wrong door and end up in a corridor that opened onto a dim, thickly-carpeted antechamber.

"Hey look," Chloe spotted the balustrade ahead. Peering over it, they could see another, larger room below. A sign over the closed double-doors read Rivoli Suite.

"Ah," Chloe said, her voice hushed. "So this is the place we're definitely not supposed to be."

But before she could suggest they retraced their steps, the doors below them opened. She heard laughter, and a male voice so familiar she froze on the spot.

He was with someone. A woman. Dressed in a midnight-blue satin gown, her dark hair was glossy and fell in thick curls down her back. She was elegant, and beautiful, and her arm was linked through Obi-Wan's, which would all have been fine if it were not that they were also holding hands, her fingers, delicate and pale, intertwined with his. It was an unmistakably intimate gesture.

When Obi-Wan glanced up, Chloe jerked back, out of his line of sight, hoping he wouldn't have recognised her in dress and wig, and in doing so bumped into Matty, who peered over her shoulder and then took in an audibly sharp breath.

Chloe watched the couple head across to a set of external doors. They paused there, for a moment. Obi-Wan was facing away, but Chloe could clearly see the woman's face, and the perfect curve of her lips as she smiled up at him. Chloe recognised that expression.

She's in love with him.

Obi-Wan was speaking, but he was too quiet for Chloe to make out. He kissed the woman's forehead, put an arm around her back, and guided her outside.

Chloe took a long breath and let it out, shakily.

I can do this. He's a free man. Good luck to him, and to her.

"They look very comfy," Matty said.

Chloe frowned. "It's all right. She might just be a friend."

But she didn't believe it, not from their body language.

"You didn't recognise her?" Matty said.

"Oh, erm, no. Should I?"

"His old flame, if you believe the gossip. Sabé Essara."

"I thought she was married."

"Divorced. And landed herself one of the largest estates on Alderaan in the process."

"Oh. So I guess he got over me."

No matter how much she tried to ignore it, the pain wouldn't go away. She'd never felt so empty, so cold, and so alone, even with her best friend standing by her side.

And she could not rid her head of the woman's expression as she looked up at Obi-Wan, and of her pale hand clasped in Obi-Wan's, their fingers intertwined.

"Well hi there lovie," Dex said. "There was me thinking you'd moved offworld without saying goodbye. How's Obi-Wan these days? What've you two been up to?"

"We, erm... split, Dex. A few weeks back," Chloe said, hitching herself onto one of the high stools at the counters as Dex served out her usual coffee. In truth she had been avoiding this place, and its memories.

"Aww, I'm sorry. There I go, putting my foot in it. What went wrong? You two seemed a pre-tty perfect match to me."

Chloe took the coffee and paid him. "I guess it wasn't quite as perfect as I thought. And neither was he."

Dex slid her credits in one of his enormous hands. "Well, I must say I'm sorry to hear that. I've known Obi-Wan a long time, a very long time, and he's truly one of the most honourable beings I've ever met. And I could tell he cared very much about you, little miss."

"Hmm?" she said, half-heartedly. She really didn't want to talk about this.

"Them there Jedi ain't allowed to display their feelings, are they? They keep everything underneath. Hidden-like. But the way he used to look at you… well, it was clear as Ryolite lake crystal to me."

Chloe couldn't help but smile. Under that intimidating exterior, Dex was the planet's biggest softie. "I think you're just a hopeless romantic."

Dex was about to reply when Chloe's comlink beeped. She checked the caller ID and raised an eyebrow. "Sorry Dex. I'd better take this."

Transferring her coffee to the table at the farthest back corner of the diner, Chloe slid on to the bench seat and activated the com. "Anakin?"

"Chloe, how are you?"

"Yeah, thanks. Um, this is a surprise…"

"Look, I don't know how best to say this so I'll come straight to the point. I need to talk to you. It's about Obi-Wan."

"Oh. You know we're done, right? Whatever it is, it isn't my business any more."

"Well, this is, actually, and I wouldn't be calling if I didn't think it was in your interests as well as his."

"This all sounds very mysterious. Go on."

"I think it would be easier if I could talk to you in person."

"Um, well I'm pretty free this morning, Do you want to meet up? I could get the shuttle over."

"No, there's talk of a security situation brewing. I'll come and get you. Where are you now?"

"Dex's Diner, CoCo Town. You know it?"

"Stay there. I'll be with you in twenty minutes."

They signed off and Chloe waved at Dex, indicating her empty cup.

"Time for one more?" he called.

But, before she could answer, the air shattered into heat and brilliant white light, and a scream that she eventually realised was coming from her.

Then time stretched, and her thoughts and everything else were in slow motion, and she knew she had to get away, but somehow she was flying through the air amidst tables and stools and torn metal and glass, and smashing against something hard, with a sickening crack that she could only pray wasn't her skull.

Chloe woke up on the floor, her forehead squashed against a broken table. No pool of blood, thank heaven, so it must have been the table she'd heard break. Gingerly, she raised her head and searched her body for injuries. She was a little battered, one arm was scraped and she had a shallow cut to the leg, but it barely stung. Relieved, thankful for her good fortune, relatively speaking, at least, she sat up and looked around.

There had only been a handful of beings in the diner. A group of three girls seemed to have escaped as lightly as Chloe and were in various stages of getting to their feet. But over by the window, a man was lying on the floor, groaning. A woman crouched over him.

Chloe got to her feet and crossed to his side, her shoes crunching over the translucent granules that littered the floor. Dex's windows had been made of crumple glass. That had probably saved all their lives.

Which reminded her…

"Dex?" she called out, as she checked the man for injuries. "Dex, are you okay?"

No reply. Oh no. Oh, please no…

"Takes more than a tickle like that to beat me," came the reply, with a grunt, as Dex appeared from behind the counter, wiping his forehead with the back of one wrist.

Chloe grinned. "Then I could use some water here."

Chloe did her best to wash and dress the deep cut on the man's leg with an improvised bandage torn from his coat, and reassured his friend that it looked much worse than it was.

Once they'd called through to the nearest medcenter to request an evacuation for the injured man, Chloe joined Dex at the blown-out window. In the distance, a threatening plume of black smoke coiled into the blue sky.

"You think they hit the Senate?" Chloe said.

"One way to find out," Dex shuffled over to the bank of screens along the opposite wall. They were all cracked. "On second thoughts," Dex said, and disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing a few moments later with a portable holoprojector.

After long minutes of painstaking tuning, he finally found a news channel.

"…explosions at multiple locations across the central districts," a reporter was saying. "Citizens are advised to make their way to the nearest storm shelter, or, if their route is blocked, to remain indoors and await further information. That news again: the capital has been rocked by a serious of suspected terrorist bombings. The Senate building is believed to be amongst the targets. We have no casualty figures at this time, but it could prove to be the worst attack Coruscant has ever seen. Stay tuned for the latest, first and accurate, here, on Cee-One-News, your number one choice for…"

Chloe was already searching for her comlink. No good. It was smashed in half. What should she do now? According to protocol, she should report to the local military service kiosk, as all those with security clearance were required to do under these circumstances. Based on her credentials they should be able to give her terminal access. Then she'd have a chance of being some help.

Where are you going?" Dex called, as she headed for the door. "It's not safe out there."

Chloe ignored him and stepped out into the street. Damaged by the blast, sidewalk platform swayed under her feet, and Chloe swayed with it as she ran towards the skybridge that would take her to the service kiosk.

Just as she was about to start up the steps, someone called out behind her.

"Chloe? Chloe O'Brian?"

She turned to see a blonde-haired woman leaning out of the window of a closed-topped speeder.

"I'm from Intel Corps," the woman called out. "Can you come with me right away? The Jedi Temple have requested your services."

Chloe crossed to the speeder. Anakin must have contacted IC to fetch her.

But why would he—

"Get in," the woman interrupted her thoughts, and the rear door of the speeder slide open. "Make yourself comfortable." Her eyes flicked from Chloe's to something behind and to Chloe's left.

Instinctively, Chloe turned her head.

Behind her stood a thickset man dressed entirely in black. A mirrored visor covered his eyes. "But not too comfortable," he said, with an unpleasant smile, and shoved her, hard, into the speeder.

"What the… who are you?" she started, but then felt, and saw, the blaster as he dug it into her ribs.

"Sit still and shut up," he said. "Or you won't live to find out."

A/N: Evil cliffie, wahaha, sorry! And two updates in less than a week, can you tell I'm impatient to share this story? :)

Some people said they'd be interested in Obi-Wan's thoughts, so I've complete the first part of some story snippets from his POV: the fic is entitled "Walking the Line", and it's up now!