You have to stick the landing.
Not only is it the end of an ambitious episode of Rebels, not only is it the end of a particular Rebels arc this season, but it’s also the end of an iconic Star Wars character and an iconic rivalry.
Maul’s impact on the Star Wars canon has been incredibly important from the get-go. It’s his appearance that reveals the presence of the Sith. It’s his actions that thrust Obi-Wan and Anakin together as Master and Padawan. It’s his “death” that cleared the way for Palpatine to start eyeing up young Skywalker.
In his return with The Clone Wars, his impact increased, though in a different manner. Try as he might, he never quite reached the scale of threat as Dooku and Sidious, but his effect began shaping the galaxy around the movies, adding nuance and depth to the events we saw in theaters.
Because of Maul, Palpatine learned that horrific injuries such as his were survivable, leading to his retrieval of Vader on Mustafar. Because of Maul, Mandalore and its neutrality fell, becoming a part of the Republic in the last days of the war, which eliminated it and the other 15,000 neutral systems as potential Rebel strongholds against the Empire. Because of Maul, we saw how Obi-Wan’s decisions with Satine and her death contrasted sharply with Anakin’s in Revenge of the Sith.
Maul provided challenges and foils that helped shape our understanding of iconic Star Wars moments, and he was an icon in his own right. The center to one of the most beloved fights in all of Star Wars. A fully-exposed embodiment of Sith hatred. A harsh demonstration of the Dark Side’s cruelty even to its own followers. Maul entered the Star Wars canon with a stunning physical presence on screen, and he returned to it with a powerful and poignant tale to tell.
Not only that, his story is intertwined so tightly with Obi-Wan’s that however Maul truly ended up dying, whether Obi-Wan was there or not, the event would reflect back on Obi-Wan and reshape our understanding of him as well.
Dave Filoni and his team had to stick this landing.
And boy oh boy, did they ever stick it.
With “Twin Suns,” Filoni and co. weren’t content just to clear Maul from the playing field to let the Original Trilogy play out without having to explain his absence. They had to give Maul the very resolution he had been aching for.
TAKE A KNEE
When struck down, Maul doesn’t simply pitch forward. Instead, he drops first to one knee, and the animation holds on that pose long enough to imply additional meaning, as if Maul is kneeling in recognition of a Master, someone with authority and power, deserving of respect.
This is yet another parallel we see in “The Lawless,” where Maul collapses to a knee after Sidious bests him in their vicious one-on-one duel. Both instances are times when Maul is forced into an acknowledgement of someone else’s authority, but the contexts could not be farther apart.
In “Twin Suns,” Maul was given multiple opportunities to acknowledge he was out of his depth, but he kept pressing forward despite the warning signs. Ben Kenobi is forced to respond with violence. In “The Lawless,” Maul immediately submits to Sidious on his Master’s arrival. Sidious rejects this acknowledgement in favor of breaking Maul violently.
Sidious wants to see Maul reduced, as is proper for a Sith Apprentice in the presence of his Master.
Ben wants to see Maul elevated, as is the desire of any Jedi Master for his Padawan.
In taking this knee, Maul symbolically acknowledges Ben Kenobi not just as a Master, but his Master.
It’s a bittersweet recognition. Maul only accepts Kenobi’s status after he is physically subdued, just as Sidious did to him before, and just as he himself did to Savage. Maul still cannot comprehend what Masterhood looks like outside of the Sith. And yet, as Maul pitches from his kneeling position towards the ground, to complete the parallels to Sidious and Savage, Ben Kenobi literally steps in to show him a better way to be a Master. As a guide, as a teacher, and yes, even as a brother.
And that Masterhood looks a lot like Duchess Satine Kryze.
A JEDI, A SITH, AND A DUCHESS WALK INTO A DEATH SCENE…
It’s fascinating to think about how Satine was planned to appear in “Twin Suns” to haunt Maul. On one hand, she is a major point of connection between Maul and Obi-Wan Kenobi, so her appearance wouldn’t be out of place. On the other hand, she’s also a symbol of Maul’s victory against Obi-Wan. Why would this haunt him?
It could be because Maul didn’t get the closure he wanted with his revenge. We’ve discussed time-and-again in this close read that Maul constantly misses the point. He constantly overlooks what could actually give him hope, what could actually fill that hole in his soul, because he fixated on the Sith point of view. Satine haunting him could be a mockery, that he had achieved this great thing and yet is still this miserable failure, scrounging to survive.
This would certainly fit into the defaced painting of Satine he had on Dathomir.
The violent lines of blood across her throat seems like Maul has tried to “kill” her again, perhaps a means to remind himself of (or even relive) how he felt that day in Mandalore’s throne room. And that’s not even going into the fact that he keeps the Darksaber directly beneath her.
This type of haunting also fits with the Sith mindset he still carries. There are certain times that Sam Witwer will deliberately give Maul inflections on words that are reminiscent of Sidious. Witwer has voiced Sidious in multiple pieces of Star Wars media, but more importantly, Maul was raised by Sidious. There are mannerisms that he’s picked up from his old Master, and Sidious’s old critiques must ring hard in his ears whenever he fails.
And in the case of Satine, it was Sidious who undercut Maul’s victory on Mandalore, putting Maul through the exact same tragedy he had just forced upon Obi-Wan.
Satine’s haunting could very well be the ever-looming shadow of Master Sidious in Maul’s mind, a shadow that has simply chosen a new face due to his obsession with Obi-Wan Kenobi.
But for all this, it’s not a haunting that is very honoring of Satine herself. Not that Maul would care, but I think Dave Filoni would. In discussing the plans for Satine and Savage’s appearances in “Twin Suns,” Filoni mentioned that the main reason they were cut was because they would have to spend time explaining who these two were to the Rebels audience. And if this would be someone’s first introduction to Satine Kryze, the love of Obi-Wan Kenobi, I think we would have seen a more sympathetic bent to the haunting. Filoni is nothing if not dedicated to his characters.
Throughout the Star Wars canon, there are plenty of instances of the spirit, or “will” as Ahsoka calls it in Rebels S4 E13, of a person shaping or guiding the living after their death. Most of the time, these people are Force users: Force ghosts, the Dume wolf, the Daughter, Nightsisters, etc. However, there has been instances in which non-Force sensitives are referenced in this manner as well. Chirrut Îmwe tells Baze Malbus to look for him in the Force. Obi-Wan Kenobi says that Steela Gerrera’s spirit will guide the people of Onderon after her death. Beru has a whole conversation with someone over a cup of blue milk after she and Owen were murdered.
Satine may not have maintained consciousness after death, but there are elements of her life and influence that seem to almost be watching over Maul until his death.
Some of this is purely meta, such as Satine’s voice actor, Anna Graves, reappearing in other areas of Maul’s story. Graves voices one of the Nightsisters in “Visions and Voices” and another of her characters is on the Jedi task force in Son of Dathomir. Other aspects of this haunting tend to fall into the grey area between meta-narrative and (in-universe) Force-induced rhyming of events.
For example, in “Shades of Reason” as Maul is gaining the upper hand against Pre Vizsla, he is briefly, yet perfectly framed against the wall’s mural of Satine. It’s an image that brings to mind the later and more famous shot from Marvel and Netflix’s Luke Cage.
Everyone wants to be the Duchess
Maul goes on to claim Satine’s throne and truly uproot her rule, and this shot is emblematic of that. A violent act destroying the legacy of a pacifist. A violent image eclipsing a peaceful one.
It’s not the only interpretation though. “Twin Suns” adds another layer by bringing in the theory of Satine’s will or spirit watching over Maul. Her mural is in multiple shots throughout the duel with Vizsla, as if she is witnessing it all play out even while imprisoned. This also ties into the defaced painting on Dathomir, where not just her throat, but her eyes are slashed over as well, as if Maul is trying to cut away a pair of eyes that are always watching.
Even before her death and before the duel for her throne, Satine’s influence presents itself to Maul. It’s Satine who first appeals to Maul’s conscience, who calls him to be better. Despite knowing what sort of person Maul is, she still urges him not to take Almec as Prime Minister because of the damage Almec has already done to Mandalore’s people. Her advice hardly takes, but even her attempt is a reflection of one of her defining statements:
“Even extremists can be reasoned with.”
It’s this stance of Satine’s which changed Maul’s fate, because it changed Obi-Wan Kenobi.
To return to Kurosawa and Sanjuro, it was the influence of the movie’s leading lady that caused Sanjuro to rethink his tactics. She tells him, shortly after his rescue of her,
“You’re too sharp. That’s your trouble. You’re like a drawn sword. Sharp, naked without a sheath. You cut well. But good swords are kept in their sheaths.”
This is repeated by Sanjuro himself when his foe Muroto demands that they settle their differences in a duel, and Sanjuro is forced to kill him.
“He was just like me. A drawn sword that wouldn’t stay in its sheath. But you know, the lady was right. The best sword is kept in its sheath.”
Sanjuro is not just withholding from violence to appease the wife of the man he’s bound to rescue. He has taken her beliefs to heart and acts on them.
Again, Obi-Wan is not nearly as prone to violence as Sanjuro was, but during the first Mandalore arc of The Clone Wars, his restraint is more to appease Satine than acting out of his own beliefs. Had Satine not been at Senator Merrick’s escape vessel, there is a high chance that Obi-Wan would have lopped off Merrick’s arm at least in order to save the ship. It’s Satine, her pacifism, and her good opinion that prevents him.
Satine wasn’t present for the first three encounters between Obi-Wan and Maul. In fact, Satine’s involvement neatly splits their interactions at a half-way point. Obi-Wan has encountered Maul a total of six times in canon, only four of which allowed for a touch of chat before crossing blades, the other two being in the heat of battle. Those four encounters are also equally divided by Satine’s death. On Raydonia and Florrum, Obi-Wan uses up the chit-chat time to trash talk Maul. Obi-Wan knows Maul won’t back down so why bother to try anything else?
This changes the moment Satine becomes involved.
The scene in Mandalore’s throne room in “The Lawless” is staged almost as a mockery of the debate between Satine and Obi-Wan in “The Voyage of Temptation.”
In “Voyage,” Satine rose from her seat, a level above Obi-Wan, to counter his claim that the Separatists can only be met with force. This is when she declares:
“Even extremists can be reasoned with.”
In “Lawless”, it is Maul seated on a level above Obi-Wan, Satine kneeling as a prisoner next to him. As Maul rises, he drags Satine up with him in a Force-choke. With both word and deed, he demonstrates his own extremism, once again eclipsing Satine and her influence.
As Satine and Obi-Wan argued in “Voyage,” they approached each other, meeting on the stairs. Satine’s arguments in the whole arc were constantly calling Obi-Wan to be better, to stop thinking just in terms of the us-vs.-them of the war. To remind him of his Jedi ideals. Satine is not just calling him out but calling him “up.”
Maul’s monologue on the other hand is deliberately designed to make Obi-Wan enraged and imbalanced, designed to make Obi-Wan react not just as General Kenobi – a Jedi who would fight a war – but as a Sith. Death Watch guards restrain Obi-Wan from approaching Maul as the he descends the stairs, dragging Satine with him. This is Maul trying to pull them both down to his level.
Instead, with Satine’s urging, Obi-Wan rises to meet Maul. Not just as a Jedi would –
“You can kill me but you’ll never destroy me. It takes strength to resist the Dark Side. Only the weak embrace it!”
– but also as Satine would have done. Obi-Wan tries reason.
Not only does he debate Maul’s philosophy on the strength of the Dark Side and of those who oppose it, but he also tries to make Maul see that there is a choice for him too. He tries to call Maul “up,” to call him to be better.
“I know where you’re from. I’ve been to your village. I know the decision to join the dark side wasn’t yours. The Nightsisters made it for you.”
Even though Maul immediately rejects this (as he did with Satine’s advice in prison) and Satine dies, there is still a victory that Maul is unable to claim. Neither Obi-Wan nor Satine fell. In the novelization of this arc, Darth Maul: Shadow Conspiracy, Satine’s final words have changed (dubious canonicity aside):
“Remember, my dear Obi-Wan. No matter what, don’t let go of what you believe in. I never did.”
And then even beyond that – beyond Obi-Wan and Satine standing true – they also called Maul to meet a standard to which he had never been held before in his life.
Fast-forward nearly twenty years to a desert. Maul knows something is wrong in his life. He knows he’s been caught in a cycle, but he doesn’t know how to break out of it. He’s looking for answers but keeps responding to the ones he receives as a Sith would, and so he constantly comes up empty-handed. Maul needs a better way.
And once again, Ben tries reason. Not to save Satine’s life this time, but to save Maul’s.
And once again, when Maul rejects it, Ben not only mirrors his past self by cradling Maul’s final victim, but he also mirrors Satine.
A thousand parallels have already been drawn between Qui-Gon’s death in The Phantom Menace and Satine’s death in The Clone Wars, but there are two other deaths I wish to address here. That of the Death Watch terrorist in “The Mandalore Plot,” which includes parallels to Savage’s in “The Lawless.”
In “The Mandalore Plot,” after detonating a bomb meant for Satine, the terrorist throws himself off a building rather than be arrested. His hand briefly stretches towards the sky, as if reaching for something. Satine goes to his side as he speaks something in a Mandalorian dialect, with what seems like a touch of longing in his voice. Satine kneels and responds in kind, transforming the words into a kind of benediction. And with her reply, the terrorist seems to pass on in peace.
By speaking a language her attacker understood, Satine gives him comfort in his final moments.
The staging is similar to that of Savage’s death. Thrown from a great height, Savage also reaches up for something – his brother’s hand. Maul rushes to his side and takes his hand, but unlike Satine, he has no words of comfort to offer Savage. He has nothing to ease Savage’s passing because he doesn’t know how. He was never taught.
Nevertheless, in “Twin Suns,” Maul finds himself practically begging for such words, a hand reaching up to grasp at Ben Kenobi’s shoulder before falling. And Ben gives it. He gives comfort and hope to Maul by speaking a language Maul understands, referring to an old Force prophecy, allowing Maul to pass on in peace.
Ben’s treatment of Maul from the moment they meet each other in “Twin Suns” is constantly reflective of Satine’s actions and beliefs. Whether it’s Ben calling Maul up, that elevation any good Jedi Master seeks for his student, or a very demonstration of the lessons Maul was never taught or had failed to learn, these were gestures we saw first from Satine Kryze.
Satine’s “haunting” of Maul could have easily been foreshadowing, a looming “threat,” so to speak, of forgiveness.
AND THEY CALL YOU MASTER…
It’s Satine’s influence on Obi-Wan that transforms him into the Jedi Master he should have been throughout the Clone Wars. And it’s that Master who now takes center frame.
Recall in Part 6 our discussion regarding the framing of Ben’s final blow, how it was Maul dominating the center of the frame. Maul had finally gotten the fight he was craving, a “victory” in goading Ben into a duel, even if ended in his loss. It’s not until the fight is done, all the lightsabers deactivated, that Ben framed as the victor.
Not as the Jedi Master who killed Maul, but the Jedi Master who forgave him.
Maul’s acknowledgement of Ben’s Masterhood comes from the broken perspective of the Sith, a singular view of combat prowess and physical power. The last time Maul was on the receiving end of this – with Sidious on Mandalore – he pleaded for mercy, which was gleefully denied. Sidious’ torture is a reaffirmation of the Sith philosophy on which Maul was raised.
“I do not ask for mercy, Master. Mercy is a lie. A delusion of the weak to think themselves strong.” – The Clone Wars, Season 4 Episode 22, “Brothers”
Compassion and forgiveness are likewise cast aside by the Sith. The first is considered a weakness. The second, according to Dooku in “Witches of the Mist,” is not the way of the Sith. It is as forbidden to them as revenge is to a Jedi.
In contrast to Sidious, Ben steps forward to catch Maul, showing him mercy without even being asked. It’s never vocalized, but this act is a refutation of the Sith philosophy. It’s a demonstration of mercy, compassion, and forgiveness – a lie, weakness, and taboo – as victory. Not the delusion of the weak but the choice of the strong. A choice that Ben had been trying to convince Maul to make all that time ago on Mandalore:
“It takes strength to resist the dark side… I know the decision to join the dark side wasn’t yours.”
Even as Maul is dying, Ben still tries to teach him a better way. No more words left to give (save two), just an example. A Master’s first and last lesson to his student.
And what a lesson it was, because it may have defined both their fates.
DO NOT SCORN FORGIVENESS THAT IS THE GIFT OF A GENTLE HEART
Stephen Stanton, in the “Apprentices to Outcasts” featurette, describes the look of pity on Ben Kenobi’s face as “powerful,” and he’s right. In more ways than one.
Emotionally, yes, it is an incredibly potent moment, but there is also literal power behind the act as well. Forgiveness itself is powerful, a means by which both the offended and the offender are freed. And despite the fact that I’m about to quote a Rabbi and the Bible, I would note that that I am not simply imposing my own worldviews on “Twin Suns.” The power of forgiveness has been canonically and explicitly established in the Star Wars universe.
“Empire Day,” and “Gathering Forces,” from Rebels Season 1, are centered around Ezra’s conflict with Tseebo, a Rodian who failed to protect him or his parents from the Empire. Ezra freely slings his bitterness at Tseebo, who is discombobulated and occasionally catatonic throughout both episodes. At first, it appears that Tseebo’s state is caused solely by his neural implants. Then, at a critical junction, as they are separated by entire systems of space, Ezra forgives Tseebo. Immediately, Tseebo becomes lucid, and Ezra unlocks an ability in the Force he was previously unable to access. An ability – his empathetic connection with other beings – that becomes his defining characteristic as a Jedi.
Ezra’s forgiveness freed both Tseebo and himself. Ben’s forgiveness has that same power.
In “Time of Death” by Cavan Scott in From A Certain Point of View, Ben Kenobi’s moment of dying is punctuated by a series of memories, critical turning points in his life. One of the repeated refrains is:
Maul’s pyre raging beneath the desert sky…
Eyes. Scream. Saber. Pain. Anakin. Padmé. Qui-Gon. Maul.
Every memory in this scene is tied to critical turning points in Ben’s life. Qui-Gon’s death, Luke’s birth, the duel with Anakin on Mustafar, the moment Obi-Wan lost Owen’s good graces and any chance to train Luke. So why is Maul listed here?
The clue is in the context of Ben’s memory of Maul. Qui-Gon’s death is present, but Maul isn’t contextualized within that memory. Nor are any other atrocities of Maul present in this moment. The memory that flashes at him is that of Maul’s death, but in a manner that recalls Ben’s compassion and forgiveness; he gave Maul the funeral due to a Jedi.
My theory is that this was the moment that Ben achieved life after death. Forgiving Maul unlocked that within him. “Twin Suns” is the moment that Obi-Wan Kenobi became immortal.
Maul’s fate is a little murkier, but there is still freedom to be had for him.
Rabbi Johnathan Sacks once wrote this on forgiveness:
Forgiveness breaks the chain… It represents a decision not to do what instinct and passion urge us to do. It answers hate with a refusal to hate, animosity with generosity. Forgiveness means that we are not destined endlessly to replay the grievances of yesterday.
I was introduced to this quote of Sacks by Allyson Gronowitz’s article on “Twin Suns”, where she compares the scene to Return of the Jedi and how Luke’s actions lead to Vader’s redemption. In that movie, Vader is explicitly redeemed, while Maul is seen clinging to revenge until his very last breath. …Almost. We’ll get to that in a moment.
There are arguments that Vader actually is not redeemed in Return of the Jedi because it’s Anakin rushing in to save his son. It’s the exact same motivation that drove him to murder the Tusken Raiders in Attack of the Clones and fall to Dark Side in Revenge of the Sith. (A good discussion of this point can be found on Eleven-ThirtyEight). To a certain extent, I can see that. Even George Lucas has been quoted on this matter, though it is a topic on which he’s been on both sides of the debate:
“It really has to do with learning,” Lucas says, “Children teach you compassion. They teach you to love unconditionally. Anakin can’t be redeemed for all the pain and suffering he’s caused. He doesn’t right the wrongs, but he stops the horror. The end of the Saga is simply Anakin saying, I care about this person, regardless of what it means to me. I will throw away everything that I have, everything that I’ve grown to love- primarily the Emperor- and throw away my life, to save this person. And I’m doing it because he has faith in me; he loves me despite all the horrible things I’ve done. I broke his mother’s heart, but he still cares about me, and I can’t let that die. Anakin is very different in the end. The thing of it is: The prophecy was right. Anakin was the chosen one, and he does bring balance to the Force. He takes the one ounce of good still left in him and destroys the Emperor out of compassion for his son.”
(The Making of Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, p221, emphasis mine)
Vader didn’t turn out of any moral compunction from his actions as a Sith Lord. It was in response to Luke’s own love for him. But I don’t think that rules out redemption.
A basic tenant of Christianity is the impossibility of a person to overcome their own sinful nature without help. Due to our original fall from grace, we have a predisposition to be selfish and self-destructive. The Law, given in the days of Moses, was intended to provide us guidelines to control those impulses and a means to provide payment (animal or grain sacrifices) when we acted on those impulses.
But the Law, though provided for our benefit, was not to be the long-term solution because outward actions of a person do not always change the outlook of their internal (and eternal) soul. That’s where Jesus and his sacrifice came into play. Not only was it a means to provide payment for every selfish and self-destructive impulse ever acted on in all of humanity, but also as a way to change the heart.
A common refrain in Christianity – I’m sure you’ve heard it – is “relationship, not religion.” Though occasionally repeated to the point of becoming trite, it nevertheless is true. Jesus changes hearts (and souls) because He meets us as a person and treats us with love. Knowing that we are loved, that we are forgiven, on a personal level inspires a desire to change to meet that love. “We love Him because he first loved us” (1 John 4:19). When we choose to respond to that love and forgiveness – offered while we are still selfish – therein is redemption.
That’s what we see with Vader. He is acting to save his son, but it’s a self-sacrificing act that is a response to the love offered him while he was yet a Sith Lord. And self-sacrifice is the core of the Light Side of the Force.
“My nature is to do what is selfless, but my brother’s will always be to do what is selfish.” – The Daughter, “Altar of Mortis,” The Clone Wars.
That is Vader’s redemption. The choice to respond to selfless love with selfless love in return.
Responding in-kind of course can work the other way as well, which is where Maul and Obi-Wan both find themselves the cycle of revenge. Sidious may have begun Maul’s cycle by exposing him to the memories of the Sith killed on Malachor (Darth Maul (2017) series), inciting his need for revenge against the Jedi, but both Obi-Wan and Maul perpetuated it.
Maul killed Qui-Gon out of his inherited need for revenge against the Jedi. Obi-Wan in-turn bisected Maul to avenge Qui-Gon. Thus Maul’s inherited motivation became personal and yanked Obi-Wan along for the ride, because he too had stepped in with the need for revenge. As Luke told Kylo Ren on Crait – “Strike me down in anger, and I’ll always be with you” – the intent behind an action changes the atmosphere and causes consequences. Obi-Wan “killing” Maul in anger and hatred on Naboo simply added blood to the cycle of vengeance
and death with no defendants.
It’s this cycle on which Sam Witwer has said Maul is trapped. It’s this cycle that Rabbi Jonathan Sacks says is broken by forgiveness:
Forgiveness means that we are not destined endlessly to replay the grievances of yesterday.
And that cycle is broken by Ben Kenobi in “Twin Suns,” an ending that had been foretold ever since Maul had returned:
Opening moral from Maul’s first episode in The Clone Wars, “Brothers”
In Ben’s cradling and comfort of Maul, reconciliation is found. The forgiveness of Ben, that much is made clear, though both Dave Filoni and Sam Witwer are reluctant to call Maul redeemed.
[Maul] doesn’t really seek some redemption in the end. He’s still bent on revenge. (Dave Filoni, Fangirls Going Rogue interview, 26:50)
I love the fact that he’s that close to redemption and he maybe doesn’t get there. He misses the point. But at the same time, through the cinematography, there’s a clarity that he has been, if not redeemed, forgiven. (Sam Witwer, StarWars.com interview)
After all, like Vader’s final act, Maul’s final words are keeping with the very thing that caused him to pursue the Dark Side in the first place.
“He will avenge us.”
It’s still about revenge. He doesn’t let it go, not entirely.
But the thing about reconciliation is that for it to work, it has to go both ways. One cannot be reconciled to another who resists the act. That is why, despite Obi-Wan’s efforts, he and Maul were not reconciled on Mandalore. Here on Tatooine, however, the result is different.
With his last breath, Maul responds to Ben’s forgiveness in kind.
“He will avenge us.”
Even though Maul still clings to the notion of revenge against Sidious, his final word shows that he has indeed learned to “to cease to feel resentment against (an offender)” (Merriam-Webster). Maul dies accepting the lesson Ben was trying to teach him. A lesson that is as foreign to the Sith as revenge is to the Jedi.
Maul dies having forgiven Obi-Wan Kenobi.
And therein, maybe he finds a spark of redemption.
The Emperor is cast into oblivion… For Maul, it’s hard to say …Maybe he’s a part of the cosmic Force. (Filoni, Fangirls Going Rogue, 26:30)