Chapter One - The Wastes of Hoth
AN -This is the sequel to Comrade Skywalker: Episode IV: A National Liberation Hope, which in turn is a sequel to the Comrade Skywalker Prequels. Please consider reading said works first, as together they have the power to conquer any and all false consciousness. Happy reading, Comrades!
Luke
"Echo Three to Echo Seven." I spoke into my Communist walkie talkie in a very equitable manner. "Han? Comrade, do you read me?"
Static burst forth from the walkie talkie as the bourgeois weather attempted to block my socialist signal. However, the static must have been weak from Capitalist excess, as it failed to block my comrade's reply.
"Loud and clear, kid." Han returned. He was still correcting his fascist habits and occasionally he would slip back into his oppressive refrain of "kid" when addressing his new comrades. "What's up?"
"Well, I finished my hammer and sickle." I sang out to the turn of the Soviet national anthem. "I didn't pick up any private property readings."
"There isn't enough private property on this ice cube to fill a storage unit." Han replied. For once he did not sound wistful at the thought of private property and I made a mental note to tell my sister Leia, she would be so proud. "The sensors are placed," Han continued, "I'm going back."
"Yes comrade." I sat up in the saddle of Kropotkin, my Tauntaun comrade. "There was a capitalist looking meteor that hit the ground near here, I am going to go check it out to ensure it is not product placement for Supreme Leader Sprite's racist beverage company. I won't be long."
I clicked off my walkie talkie and patted Kropotkin's side, she seemed to be nervous. "Steady comrade." I said as she fidgeted, "What's the matter? Do you smell a Republican?"
I looked around for the source of her economic distress, but I was too late. The gigantic, hideous shape of Jeff Bezos loomed out from the gloom, looking exceptionally bald. I reached for my hammer and sickle lightsabre, meaning to seize his ill-gotten private property and cripple his stranglehold on the online market, when he slashed at me exploitatively with his exploitative claws that were made from pure exploitation. With my equitable, state run markets badly injured, I fell out of the saddle and into the snow, vowing revenge on this capitalist pig. My comrade Kroptokin screamed in socialist terror as Jeff Bezos mauled her, snapping her neck. My marxist heart clenched in sympathy and I vowed that she would not be forgotten as Jeff Bezos dragged me away.