We had an amazing time at WonderCon 2025! Our thanks to Comic Con International for having us present “Yar, The Pirates of Star Wars.” A big thank you to everyone to everyone who attended our panel.
The Legal Geeks had one crazy summer…including two panels at San Diego Comic Con. A big thank you to all who attended our panels. Below are the panel descriptions and audio recorded at Comic Con.
Lawyerbots, Rollout! Law from the 1984 Transformers Cartoon and Comic Recorded Live at SDCC
Do Autobots need to be registered with the DMV and get a driver’s license? Did Megatron and Ratchet have an enforceable contract? Was it child endangerment to send Spike out on missions? See how law is more than meets the eye with our analysis of the Transformers, featuring Kate Bridal (The Legal Burnouts Podcast), Katrina Wraight, Esq., (Best Best & Krieger LLP), Kathy Steinman, Esq., (San Diego City Attorney’s Office), Michael Dennis Esq., (Crabtree Schmidt), Mark Zaid, Esq., (MARK S. ZAID, P.C.), and Joshua Gilliland, Esq., (Greenan, Peffer, Sallander & Lally LLP). Presented by The Legal Geeks.
Law of The Acolyte – Recorded at SDCC 2024
Can Jedi read a suspect’s mind without violating the right against self-incrimination? What are the use of Force concerns in law enforcement? Is it legal for Jedi detain someone and question them without informing the suspect of their right to counsel and right to remain silent? Do witches have a religious freedom to use the Force? Join us and find out with Circuit Judge John Owens, Magistrate Judge Stacie Beckerman, Magistrate Judge Stan Boone, Christine Peek, Esq., Stephen Tollafield Esq., and Joshua Gilliland, Esq. (Greenan, Peffer, Sallander & Lally LLP). Presented by The Legal Geeks.
“You know, your sister being alive doesn’t change anything. You need to kill the Wookie. You made a deal.”
“I don’t need to keep this deal. You were wrong. Osha being alive changes everything. My loyalty is to Osha, not your Master.”
Although The Acolyte largely involves legal issues of crime and criminal procedure, there are occasional civil legal issues embedded in the revenge drama. One such issue centers on the mysterious contract between Mae and the Master, a/k/a the Stranger, d/b/a Qimir.
The exact promises they exchanged are not clear, although presumably Mae promised to be the Stranger’s pupil for life, as seeking an acolyte is the Stranger’s repeated main motivation. In return, it seemed that the Stranger had promised Mae the training, power, and opportunity to exact revenge on the four Jedi that Mae held responsible for Osha’s death. And it would not be a true devil’s bargain without a sinister liquidated damages provision: Mae noted that the Master would kill her if she failed to uphold her end of the deal.
When Episode 4 began, Mae had just learned that Osha was still alive, and her Master (in disguise as Qimir) sensed Mae’s flagging resolve to seek revenge. He admonished her that she could not back out of the deal. But later, after trapping Qimir and preparing to turn herself in, Mae repudiated her contractual obligation in light of Osha’s newly discovered survival.
Given all this, what contract principles govern this dispute over the enforceability of their Faustian agreement?
As a threshold issue, a contract that involves hurting people is not enforceable. Under California Civil Code section 1668, “All contracts which have for their object, directly or indirectly, . . . willful injury to the person or property of another . . . are against the policy of the law.” So Mae never had any legal obligation to perform this unlawful contract.
But assuming that the contract was not for an illegal purpose, Mae likely has good arguments that the newly discovered information of her sister’s survival undermines the enforceability of the bargain.
First, a mutual mistake between the contracting parties regarding the facts underlying a contract can cause a critical failure in the requisite meeting of the minds, voiding the contract altogether.
Many jurisdictions have adopted the formulation of the elements of the mistake defense from the Restatement of Contracts 2d § 152, which requires the party seeking rescission to establish:
Additionally, courts may excuse the performance of a contract where the point of the contract has been somehow erased or frustrated. See La Cumbre Golf & Country Club v. Santa Barbara Hotel Co., 271 P. 476 (Cal. 1928) (hotel company excused from paying flat fee for golf privileges for its hotel guests when hotel burned down). Specifically, to assert the excuse of frustration, a person seeking to avoid their obligation has to show:
While the frustration excuse is usually applicable where circumstances change after the parties sign a deal, circumstances existing at the time of contract formation may also frustrate the purpose of the agreement. See, e.g., Mariani v. Gold, 13 N.Y.S.2d 365 (Sup. Ct. 1939) (lessees of premises leased for health resort and milk farm could avoid lease after discovering that existing zoning ordinance prohibited this use). And because the facts supporting an existing frustration excuse are often similar to those supporting the defense of mistake, parties may assert both. See United States v. Frownfelter, 626 F.3d 549 (10th Cir. 2010) (noting that “for an agreement to be rescinded under the doctrine of mutual mistake, the party seeking rescission must satisfy a three part test similar to that for frustration of purpose”).
Either way, a court would likely not enforce Mae’s contractual obligation in light of the revelation that Osha is alive. For purposes of the defense of mistake, Osha’s death was the impetus for Mae’s decision to seek revenge—a basic assumption underlying Mae’s deal with the Stranger. Moreover, Osha’s survival has a material effect on the exchange because Mae’s murder of the Jedi has no value as revenge if the Jedi did not actually kill Osha. The mutual mistake of fact underlying their deal means that the contract is void, and a court would likely rescind it.
But even if a court decided that Mae and the Stranger had struck a valid deal, Mae has a strong alternative argument for framing Osha’s survival as an existing frustration of the purpose of Mae’s agreement. The purpose of her agreement to the Stranger’s terms was to acquire the power and opportunity to avenge her sister’s death. The power and opportunity to exact revenge are worthless to Mae—and her purpose “substantially frustrated”—if there is no death to avenge.
The Stranger might argue that while Osha survived, their deal still has value to Mae, such as seeking vengeance for her mother and the destruction of her childhood home. In other words, this situation is like when a party realizes less-than-expected profit from a deal, which courts have held is insufficient frustration to excuse performance. See, e.g., Hiriam Hicks, Inc. v. Synagro WWT, LLC, 867 F. Supp. 2d 676 (E.D. Pa. 2012).
However, Mae could convincingly testify that since Osha’s survival “changes everything,” revenge for Osha was her sole purpose of the contract. Presumably Mae would have been angry and grieved for her other losses, but agreeing to the Stranger’s terms was of value to her only for the singularly painful loss of her twin sister. Her loyalty, after all, “is to Osha,” and no one else. This would likely be a sufficient basis for a court to hold that because of the existing frustration of Mae’s purpose in entering the deal, no duty of performance ever arose, and her continued performance would be excused.
The Acolyte’s cautionary tale of selling a soul for revenge is timeless as one ultimately never gets quite what one bargains for. Mae’s lesson in devil’s deals is a hard one, but fortunately the law of contracts can save the rest of us from a similar fate.
In Episode 2 of The Acolyte, Mae travels to the planet of Olega to exact her revenge on Jedi Master Torbin. To facilitate her clandestine intrusion into the Olega Jedi temple, Mae enlists the help of a local street kid, identified only as the “Olega Urchin.” This adorable scamp’s peripheral involvement in Mae’s crime spree raises numerous legal issues, both substantive and procedural. But to avoid referring to her as the Olega Urchin—and in the grand tradition of Star Wars characters with absurdly on-the-nose names—let’s call her Ada-Bette.
The episode began by showing Ada-Bette’s chain of personal criminal conduct. First, she stole an object from a passing vendor’s cart, likely only a petty theft under California Penal Code sections 484(a) and 488. She then chucked the object, striking a sentry droid guarding the entrance to the Jedi temple. Assuming that droids can be victims of crimes and that the sentry droid counts as an on-duty peace officer, this could constitute a battery of law enforcement under PC 243(b). Once she had the droid’s attention, Ada-Bette distracted it so that Mae could disable the sentry, which might be characterized as criminal obstruction of a peace officer’s duty or employment under PC 148(a)(1). These are certainly significant crimes, but all in a standard day’s work for a streetwise ragamuffin like Ada-Bette.
The real crimes start to pile up once we consider Ada-Bette’s exposure to accomplice liability for aiding and abetting Mae’s subsequent conduct inside the Jedi temple. Penal Code section 31, the California aiding and abetting statute, is not a standalone crime. Rather, it permits the prosecution of an accomplice who assists another perpetrator. To wit, Ada-Bette could be liable under PC 31 for Mae’s further battery/disabling of the sentry droid, burglary (entering the temple with the intent to commit a felony within, PC 459), criminal trespass (PC 602(k)), and the attempted murder of Master Torbin (PC 664/187).
Luckily for Ada-Bette, she would likely not be on the hook as an aider and abetter for Mae’s most serious crimes. To convict under PC 31, the prosecution has to establish, among other things, that the accomplice knew that the perpetrator intended to commit the crimes and that the accomplice intended to aid and abet the perpetrator in their commission. There may be evidence that Ada-Bette knew that Mae wanted to gain unauthorized entry to the temple, which might implicate her in Mae’s droid battery and criminal trespass. However, it seems unlikely that Mae confided in Ada-Bette the full plan to murder Torbin, in which case a prosecutor would have a difficult time tying Ada-Bette to the burglary and attempted murder.
Ultimately, Ada-Bette appears to be a pre-teen child, so any criminal conduct would be resolved through delinquency proceedings in juvenile court under California Welfare and Institutions Code section 707(b). Under Penal Code section 26, children under 14 are presumptively incapable of forming criminal intent—which makes sense where, as here, an impoverished child is developmentally unable to fully appreciate the consequences of some light battery and criminal obstruction when a grown-up offers some much-needed food money in exchange. While juveniles can be prosecuted as adults under PC 707(b) when they are accused of serious crimes, including attempted murder, a court likely would not try a juvenile as an adult without much clearer evidence of an appreciation of wrongfulness than circumstances here suggest. Thus, if anything, Ada-Bette would probably be looking at some juvenile court proceedings to connect her with the social, educational, and counseling services that will hopefully get her on the right track.
The next time we see her after the episode’s opening sequence, Ada-Bette is very clearly under arrest and not free to leave the Jedi’s custody: a padawan has her by the scruff and orders her to stop resisting his physical restraint. Because this is a custodial situation, Miranda v. Arizona would require officers to admonish the suspect that she has a right to remain silent and a right to an attorney before interrogating her.
Additionally, many jurisdictions impose additional, more stringent safeguards for the custodial interrogation of minors. This is because children are uniquely vulnerable to pressure from authority figures—research has found that when being questioned by police, 42% of innocent youth falsely confessed to a crime as compared to only 13% of adults. Samuel R. Gross et al., Exonerations in the United States, 1989 Through 2003, 95 J. of Crim. L. & Criminology (2005), available at https://ssrn.com/abstract=753084; Megan Glynn Crane, Childhood Trauma’s Lurking Presence in the Juvenile Interrogation Room and the Need for a Trauma-Informed Voluntariness Test for Juvenile Confessions, 62 S.D. L. Rev. 626, 627 (2017).
For example, under California Welfare and Institutions Code section 625.6(a), when the subject of the interrogation is under 18, as here, police must go beyond just advising the child of their Miranda rights. Before asking any questions, officers must further (1) provide the opportunity for the minor to meet with a lawyer and (2) ensure that the child actually speaks with an attorney, either in person or by telephone or video conference.
Additionally, while properly Mirandized adults may knowingly waive their Fourth Amendment rights, California law makes the right to an attorney un-waivable for minors. In other words, kids in California always get a lawyer when questioned in custody.
The episode does not show what happened during Ada-Bette’s initial arrest and detention but, given that The Acolyte is all about not giving the Jedi the benefit of the doubt, it seems safe to assume that the Jedi did not observe any constitutional or statutory protections. There certainly is no attorney present when Jecki begins questioning Ada-Bette. Thus, Ada-Bette’s incriminating responses to Jecki’s unconstitutional interrogation would not be admissible in a U.S. court.
Adorably precocious minors getting swept up in interstellar adventures is a ubiquitous staple of the galaxy far, far away. (See, e.g., Broom Boy; Jyn Erso; Boba Fett; Anakin Skywalker; Ahsoka Tano …and literally every other Jedi padawan ever.) Here’s to hoping that Ada-Bette gets some grand adventures of her own, preferably ones that do not involve assisting others’ criminal activities.
In the final episode of Star Wars: Rebels, Ezra handed his lightsaber to Chopper before sneaking off to surrender to Thrawn. Chopper gave it to Sabine, and she used it to help the rebels escape the Imperial Command Center.
By the beginning of Ahsoka, Sabine had modified Ezra’s lightsaber. In Episode 2 of Ahsoka, Huyang remarks that, after her modifications, the lightsaber is now Sabine’s. While I certainly share Huyang’s enthusiasm for lightsabers, I would respectfully disagree with Huyang’s take on property law.
If Ezra had gifted the lightsaber to Sabine, then she would be entitled to do as she pleased with it, including modifying it to her heart’s content. Gifting an item of personal property transfers title to the property from the giver to the recipient, who thereafter owns the property outright. See Cal. Civil Code § 1146.
As an aside, the circumstances of Ezra’s relinquishment of his lightsaber raise an interesting question about the nature of the gift. On one hand, if Ezra meant merely to gift the lightsaber as a sign of affection, the gift would be inter vivos, an ordinary gift between living parties. On the other hand, if Ezra expected that his gambit with Thrawn’s ship and the purrgil would cause his death, the gift would be a gift causa mortis, which is sort of a quasi-testamentary gift given under an apprehension of imminent death.
Either way, a legal gift requires intent, delivery, and acceptance, and the circumstances in the Rebels finale raise questions regarding at least intent and delivery. Burkle v. Burkle, 141 Cal. App. 4th 1029 (2006). First, it seems unlikely that Ezra intended to gift the lightsaber to Chopper, to whom he delivered the item. One shudders to contemplate the havoc that Chopper could inflict with such a weapon, but more than that, astromechs like Chopper are more frequently mere custodians (see, e.g., Return of the Jedi). If anyone, it’s more likely Ezra intended it to be a gift for Sabine, who had already demonstrated her aptitude with the Darksaber and with whom Ezra shares a close, affectionate relationship. But in that case, it’s curious that he did not give it to her directly even though he had the opportunity when silently communicating with her in the Rebels finale his intent to sneak off and surrender. So even if Sabine could establish intent, notwithstanding Huyang’s comment that Ezra “passed it on to you,” the lightsaber was probably not a legal gift as Ezra arguably did not actually or symbolically deliver it to Sabine’s possession. See Cal. Civil Code § 1147 (for unwritten gifts, requiring actual or symbolic delivery of object to recipient).
In any event, Sabine herself does not seem to interpret the transfer as a gift, as she still refers to it as “Ezra’s lightsaber” in Ahsoka. Under these circumstances, Sabine would have no right to alter Ezra’s personal property, and the modifications certainly would not result in transferring title to her.
Alternatively, personal property left in the physical custody of another raises the issue of bailment, where the owner transfers possession but not title to a bailee. The lightsaber’s bailment here would be best described as a situation where the bailee, Sabine, receives the benefit of possession, and the owner, Ezra, receives no reciprocal benefit, such as a rental fee. California regards this kind of bailment as a “gratuitous deposit” under Civil Code section 1844. California law requires a bailee of this kind of deposit to “use, at least, slight care for the preservation of the thing deposited.” Cal. Civ. Code § 1846(a).
Framing Sabine’s possession of the lightsaber as a gratuitous deposit would be better for her in terms of avoiding trouble for its modifications. She could argue that adding embellishment to the nozzle and polishing up the hilt did not impair the lightsaber’s function or value. She could argue that the modifications added value given her reputation and skill as an artist and reflected “at least, slight care” for the lightsaber’s preservation while in her custody.
However, as with all deposited property, California law would require Sabine to return the lightsaber to the owner when demanded. So assuming that her and Ahsoka’s quest is successful, what happens if Ezra is unhappy with the modifications to his lightsaber while it was in Sabine’s care?
This triggers a concept called accession, which is the addition of value to bailed property by the expenditure of labor or the addition of new materials. See Cal. Civ. Code § 1025 et seq. Since Ezra owns the principal lightsaber, Ezra would be entitled to entirely reclaim the newly embellished lightsaber, although he may be obligated to reimburse Sabine for her effort and materials. Id. § 1025. Alternatively, he could demand that the new ornamentation be removed and his property restored to its original condition. Id. § 1026.
However, given that Sabine’s modifications likely do not exceed the value of the overall lightsaber, the modifications would not result in transferring ownership to her, despite Huyang’s evaluation.
What will Ezra think of Sabine’s additions to his lightsaber? Will he ultimately gift it to her in a way that results in an effective transfer of title? It looks like Sabine, Huyang, and Ahsoka will have to travel to a galaxy even farther, farther away to answer these and many other questions.
This post was composed during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. We acknowledge that this show would not exist without the labor of currently striking artists and are grateful for their hard work.