Epilogue

In the end, thousands of comrades turned out for Padme's funeral. We decided to lay her to rest on the Communist planet of Alderaan. The assembled working class families all watched silently as the coffin passed through the city, their Marxist respect emanating off them in waves. Obi Wan and I walked behind the coffin in the procession, Obi Wan carrying Luke while I carried Leia. With us walked all the Jedi Younglings, who had been saved from the imperialistic massacre at the temple.

"What will you do now?" Asked Bail Organa progressively, as we stood outside Padme's tomb.

"I think we will go back to Tatooine, to raise our family." I said in the voice of Lenin. I glanced at my husband and sensed that he concurred. "Although we'll have to be careful of all the FUCKING SAND." I added. "It's rough and coarse and irritating and it gets everywhere."

"What about you, Comrade?" Obi Wan asked Bail Organa in a very socialist manner.

Bail Organa paused to think, his face taking on the wise and reasoned countenance of Che Guevara. "I think I will stay here, and establish an orphanage for the Younglings. I will keep them safe so that one day they will be able to assist you in your mission to overthrow the fascist chancellor and bring REVOLUTION to the galaxy."

Obi Wan and I nodded in bolshevik agreement. "You will need assistance in your task, Comrade." Obi Wan noted.

"I'll accept the mission." A communist voice called out. It was Quinlan Vos.

"You will stay behind to protect the Younglings?" Bail Organa asked.

"Yes, with Asajj Ventress." Vos replied, looking a lot like Friedrich Engels. "We are getting married."

Despite the horrible situation we were in, now that Padme had just died and FUCKING PALPATINE HAD FUCKING TAKEN OVER THE ENTIRE FUCKING GALAXY, Obi Wan beamed. "Congratulations, Comrade. I'm sure you will take good care of the Younglings."

"We both will." Ventress said in the voice of Gorbachev, laying a working class hand on Vos' shoulder.

Humbled and overwhelmed by this beautiful display of Marxist solidarity, I started to cry tears of pure socialist joy. I had never been more sure that our REVOLUTION would be successful. With such courage and strength on our side, how could it not be?

My husband and comrade, Obi Wan held my hand as we walked to our ship. He didn't let go while we took off and watched Vos, Ventress and the younglings shrink to pinpricks as we ascended. He didn't even let go after we touched down on Tatooine. It was early morning when we set the ship down next to my Mum's new farm, stirring up a cloud of coarse, irritating sand that got everywhere. Luke and Leia were still sound asleep in the ship's baby bassinets and I was sitting next to my husband in the cockpit, hand in hand, as we watched the twin suns rise.

It was a new day and we still had hope.

TO BE CONTINUED IN EPISODE IV: A NATIONAL LIBERATION HOPE