It reminded her of Naboo. This world was so astronomically far away from her home, but its sun beamed that same warm light, its halls boasted that same alabaster wealth, and its nobles wore that same amused frown— the look of someone who couldn't believe it was all as bad as you said it was.
The scions of millennia-old noble houses pushed past her, directing servants around tables that had served kings and messiahs. It was no wonder she was practically ignored. Padme was just one of many storied names.
The senator from Alderaan offered her his arm. "Chancellor. I hope you'll forgive the cavalier aristocrats of Alderaan. They like to pretend that their ancestors' achievements are their own."
"It's no trouble, senator Organa," They watched as a pair of porters carted in a strange array of decorative spheres. "So long as everything is ready in time."
The senator sighed. "No need to worry. You chose Alderaan for a reason. No better place for a peace conference." The words were hollow, more habit than conviction.
"Yes, of course. Excuse me." Padme broke suddenly, floating to the edge of the room, where a Kel Dor jedi observed the proceedings.
As she approached, he straightened, squaring with her. His visage, eyes and mouth covered by crude apparati, was unsettling, but if anything he seemed more nervous than she did.
"General Plo Koon."
His head tilted to the side. "An honor, to be known by the chancellor of the Republic. Is there anything I can help you with?"
Padme hesitated. Why had she come over here, to speak with a man she hardly knew, a man she had never spoke to before. "The room." She said, finally. "What do you sense?"
She couldn't be sure, but Plo Koon seemed to smile. He stiffened, and the synthetic bark of his breathing stopped. A second of silence, then "anxiety, some hope. Here more than anywhere, any peace is a good peace. A fear for their values. Turning back to the past for example… I'm afraid some here have always sympathized with the Separatists."
"And me?" She said, not whispering but with the timory of a whisper. "What do you sense in me?"
"Ah." His face grew softer— a definite smile. "You do not live here."
"What? I don't—"
"Your world is one of ideals, of democracy and process. Not a bad world. But the galaxies we make for ourselves are not enough if we want to save this one."
She thought. "You're right. It's not enough. But it's why I'm here today."
As the sun finally fell, servants lit rows and rows of candelabras. Plo Koon's face seemed to flicker with them. "A minute ago you called me general. I hope that when your children are grown, they would remember me only as master Plo Koon."
"It may be too late for me to have children." Padme said, neutral-faced. "It's not as though I'm married."
"I have sensed them, too."
He took a moment. "I will hide your secret, if I must. The consternation of this galaxy concerns me less and less as I retreat into my own."
"I."
"Oh."
"Yes."
"Well." Plo Koon looked around. "Congratulations."