In the isolation of the catwalk, Maul found his opening. With a brutal hilt-bash to Qui-Gon’s chin, he disrupted the Master's guard for a fraction of a second. The red blade lunged forward, piercing Qui-Gon’s chest.
When the barriers finally vanished, the silence exploded. They surged into the final chamber—a vertigo-inducing pit of endless machinery. The Final Stroke
The green blade flashed once. The Sith was severed, falling into the darkness, leaving only the fading echoes of a choir and the weight of a galaxy forever changed.
Maul didn't speak. He reached for his hilt, and two crimson blades snapped out with a sound like a crack of thunder. The Dance of Death