Living on a world that never seems to sleep, filled with billions of beings, Padmé found it amazing that she could feel so alone.
And it wasn't like she didn't have friends, although most of them were back on Naboo. Dormé was her constant companion here and was more than just her bodyguard and protector. She was her close friend.
Having a friend however, wasn't the same as having a lover; someone she could share her dreams and intimate desires with.
It had been too long. It was time to move on. Forget the past and focus on the future.
Padmé stepped in from off the balcony and headed straight to her personal computer. With just the slightest hesitation, she pulled the dating service membership ticket that Dormé had given her from out of the desk drawer and accessed the Holonet.
After finding the site and entering her pass code, she was then prompted to secure a user name and password. She sat back in contemplation. She had to be careful and choose something discretely anonymous. Something that wouldn't raise suspicion. There were too many strange beings and fanatics on Coruscant, not to mention the fact that the press would have a field day if they discovered the senator from Naboo was using an online dating service!
A name that would give just the slightest glimpse into her character. Or perhaps a favorite pasttime.
Padmé laughed softly at that thought. What pasttimes? Besides her job, the only thing she indulged in was reading. And how profound or interesting was that? Especially when it came to what she liked to read.
Tragic poetry.
It was a love she had developed several years ago after the Naboo Occupation.
After Obi-Wan.
Padmé's eyes glanced up and scanned the rows ofdigital textsthat lined the shelf above her computer desk. One title and author in particular caught her attention and she reached up and withdrew the slim datareader.
"The same night whitening the same trees. We both of that time are no longer the same." She read aloud before switching off the datareader and replacing it back on the shelf. She then looked back to the computer terminal and began typing.
Padmé felt more than heard Dormé approach her from behind.
"Melancholy-lady? Are you sure you want to be known as that? It sounds depressing. Who wants to go out with someone who's depressed? You're probably not going to get many responses with a name like that." Dormé said all in one breath.
Padmé chose to ignore her as she continued entering her information.
"Exactly." She finally stated. "I probably shouldn't be doing this anyway. Nobody uses these services except poor lonesome losers – like me." Her chuckle was born of sarcasm as she realized how pitiful she sounded.
"You are not a loser!" Dormé argued. "You've just made some bad choices in the past, and had a little bit of bad luck. That's all."
"Well, let's hope that my luck improves." Padmé finished up the biographical information, trying to be as vague as possible.
"You're not giving them much to go by." Dormé pointed out, still peering over the young senator's shoulder.
"I guess not." Padmé admitted as she skipped over the photo submission option and the majority of the physical characteristics. "The less they know about me, the better. Coruscant isn't the safest place, you know. There's no telling what kind of lunatics are going to respond."
"I agree. You'll have to be careful, but the success rate of this particular service is high. I checked before I bought you the membership, Mi'Lady."
"I know you did." Padmé turned in her chair and smiled at her friend. She knew that Dormé was only doing what she thought would make her happy. "It's not exactly my physical safety that I'm worried about."
"Ah." Dormé replied, knowing how difficult it must be for the senator to be taking this chance on getting her heart broken again. She returned Padmé's smile and nodded her head.
"We'll just have to wait and see what fate has in store for me." The young woman responded as she clicked off the computer, hugged her bodyguard good night and went to her room.
Two days later, it appeared that fate had not neglected Padmé after all. When she got home from work, there were two-hundred and thirty-three messages waiting for her.
Padmé was overwhelmed at the response. She read the first ten and was appalled by the rudeness and sexual implications of most of them. After reading a dozen or so, she began deleting them one by one.
"What are you doing? You're not even going to read them?" Dormé cried out as she sat down next to her.
"What's the point? Padmé asked. "They're not my type. Did you read that last one?" She glanced to Dormé with her face aghast.
Dormé nodded, succeeding to the argument. "Okay, okay. That one was pretty bad. But you did set yourself up for comments like that. And who knows? He might be of a species whose reproductive fluids just might actually cure depression, like he claims."
Padmé huffed as she rolled her eyes, her finger rhythmically pressing the delete key on her keyboard, until the responses were all gone. All two-hundred and thirty-three of them.