Remi the Grey

Doc walked back this his quarters. Kira waited expectantly. His expression was blank, shocked.

Kira stood up, “Did you talk to Grey? What happened?” She shook Doc’s shoulder a little.

Doc shook his head. “I think Scourge found Remi.”

“He did? Where is she?”

“On the bridge.” He started to smile thinking of exactly what he just witnessed on the bridge.

“How did she get on the ship? Does she know Grey?” Kira was growing more concerned. The last few days had been very stressful for Doc.

“Remi is Grey.” Doc said smiling. “No wonder she saved us back there. The whole I’m leaving you behind thing never fooled me for a second.” He said sounding more like his old self. He ran his hand down Kira’s arm. “I think this calls for celebration.” He leaned in to kiss her.

“Celebration!” Kira yelped pulling away. “I’m going to kill her.” Kira clenched her fists and headed to the bridge.

“Whoa there wait. No one’s killing Remi or Grey or anybody.” Doc said grabbing Kira around the waist and lifted her off her feet. Kira kicked the air for a moment. “Besides, I think they’re a little busy right now. Why don’t you wait a bit. Meditate, do your mantras, there is no anger there is only umm happiness that your friend is alive.” Kira tore herself out of Docs arms and marched up to the door of the bridge.

“Remi!” she yelled. “Get out here. You owe me an explanation, then I’m going to kick your a**.” She pounded on the door for a few moments then she waited with her arms crossed. The door opened and Remi and Scourge tumbled out. They were locked in an embrace heedless of their surroundings, like a pair of teenagers they made their way to Remi’s quarters in one passionate unending kiss. The door slammed shut, Kira stared at it speechless.
Doc smiled, the fear of the last few days melting away. Everything’s going to be ok.


Remi lay quietly on her side, her head resting on the Sith Lord’s arm. She watched him breath, his eyes were closed, she thought he was sleeping, “I never did actually apologize.” He said.

“Hmm.” She agreed.

“Not used to talking anymore, are you?” He asked. She shook her head. “But I have questions for you. That may need more than two words in response.”

“Ask.” She said chuckling a little.

“Do you know your parents?” He asked.

“No,” She answered furrowing her brow at the non-sequitur. “I was given to the Jedi when I was very little. I don’t remember anything about them. Why do you ask?”

“Your eyes are amber, an unusual color for a full human.” He answered. “I was wondering if your bloodline might be Sith.”

She raised herself on her elbow to look at him. “Would that please you, my lord?” she teased in a mock Dromund Kaas accent. He opened his eyes to see her impish grin.

“Do not mock me.” He growled, but his expression was amused. “I never considered human women when I was younger.” He traced her jawline with his index finger, her red hair and yellow eyes were a very pleasing combination to him. “You are beautiful to me.”

She put her head back on his arm, embarrassed, “I bet you say that to all the girls who kill the Emperor.” She thought of what lay ahead, they had not spoken about it yet. She shivered; without the Force, she always felt cold.
“Why do you not use the Force? I know that you can, I sensed it in you when we got back to the ship and later on the bridge.”

“I promised myself I would only use it if I had to fight him again.” She hesitated, “He’s alive.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes.” He answered anyway.

She sighed. “I will be strong again, I will stop him if there is a way, it’s just…” Her voice trailed off. She shivered again, this time it had nothing to do with the cold.

Scourge rolled over, enveloping her in the warmth of his embrace. “Not yet.” He breathed in her ear, then he caught her lips with his and there was nothing more to say.

Remi lay on her side curled in a ball shivering with cold, she pulled the covers around her tighter. The noises outside the tiny rented flat never stopped, voices, traffic, laughter, screams, blasters. Nar Shadaa never slept and neither had Remi, not since she arrived. The Jedi Council had been generous with her severance. She could have afforded a much better room in a nicer part of town; she could even have afforded a decent place on Coruscant, if she had planned to rejoin society in a normal capacity. Instead, she lived in a tiny space in the Nikto sector; she would need every credit to purchase gear and supplies. Comfort was not important, but she needed to sleep, tomorrow would be dangerous. She closed her eyes and ran through a basic meditation exercise. It was difficult not to reach for the Force out of habit. Finally, she fell into a fitful sleep.

The Promenade Cantina was noisy like the rest of Nar Shadaa and it was starting to grate on Remi’s nerves. She was waiting for a friend, she hoped they were still friends.

“You look like the void, sister.” A voice said. Remi looked up to see Captain Nosc, the infamous smuggler and Boss of Bosses. Indeed, they could have been sisters. They were the same height and build, short cropped hair, similar heart shaped faces, only their eyes were very different. Remi’s an odd yellow hue while Nosc’s were a sparkling green. They were similar enough that they had traded places for the last mission. Remi had walked into a trap for her, they did not realize that Nosc would be doing the same.

Nosc studied the former Jedi. She was in rough shape. She had been thin when they first met but she always gave the odd impression of strength despite her size. Now it looked like a stiff breeze would knock her over. Her eyes looked tired and though she smiled, there was strain in it that had not been there before. She’s worse for wear. Nosc thought. Probably an easy con right now. For a moment, Nosc was tempted, and then she thought back to the last time she had seen Remi, jumping out of the XS-Freighter to land on a Sith Lord and killing an army of mercenaries. Nosc decided it was safer to stay on the Jedi’s good side, former or not.

“Thanks for meeting me.” Remi said. She was grateful that she would not have to sit at the bar alone. She never drank so the bartender kept glaring at her. He stopped immediately when he saw whom she was waiting for.

“Hey, we all owe ya, and you know it. I hate owing people, so let’s settle up, what do you need?” Nosc asked. She expected Remi to need work, or a place to stay, or something to settle into her new more mundane life. Remi handed her a datapad not wanting to say it aloud. An unmarked hyperspace capable ship, a suit of armor suitable for bounty hunting, weapons. Nosc let out a low whistle. “I’m not sure I owe you that much.” She thought of the few places she could locate a ship, though the other two were easy.

“How’s the route working out for you?” Remi asked catching her eyes. Remi had provided the crew a way to save their boss. In the process, she gave the crew the fastest hyperspace route between Nar Shadaa and Tatooine, known only to the Jedi and Republic High Command. Nosc had already made a small fortune on smuggling runs between the planets.

“Profitable, but not that profitable.” Nosc said firmly, pushing the datapad back to Remi. “I’ll get you the other two no problem. But the first, I only know one place to get something like that and there’s no way he’d give it to me or you.”

“I guess I’ll have to sell the route to someone who can help me.” Remi said. Competition would be bad, but the route was supposed to be secret.

“Won’t that get you in trouble?” Nosc said calling her bluff. She may no longer be a Jedi but she was no criminal either.

“I’ll say you sold it.” Remi answered calmly. Nosc blinked in surprise, competition and blackmail.

“Wow, you sure you don’t want to join my crew?” Nosc sighed thinking hard. “Ok, it’s a long shot but maybe that slug will have forgotten I killed his gundark and took his wookie.”

The massive hutt grabbed a handful of thranta eyes from a plate and devoured them. Drooga the Hutt was not entertained. The last three courses had been mundane fare, the species were barely on the protected list and the entertainers had died too quickly. He had amused himself for centuries eating the rarest creatures and grand displays of ringed combat but this war was putting a damper on excess and opulence. As a result, when the two women approached the dais on his pleasure barge he did not send them away.

“Captain,” he greeted the Boss of Bosses. “What brings you here? You and your friend are too skinny to be dancers.” He laughed a deep slimy laugh.

“I’m here for my ship.” Nosc said. Years ago, she had killed bounty hunter Zank Helrott. By Nar Shadaa bounty law, his ship belonged to her now. Unfortunately, by the time she found out about it the docking fees had been excessive. She was sure Drooga had something to do with not mentioning her spoils until he could keep the ship.

“Unpaid docking fees,” he rumbled. “Worth more than the ship now.”

“I can pay, I’ll run the Tatooine route exclusively for you for a month.” Drooga pondered the offer. It was a fair exchange but Hutts were not interested in fair. His eyes fell on Nosc’s companion.

“You, what is your name soft thing.”

“Remi Syeriy.”

His longtime assistant Ga’ram whispered, “Former Jedi Master, rumored to have led the attack on the Emperor.” He paused for dramatic effect. “If current rumors are true, no longer Force sensitive.”

“Ahh, Jedi.” Hutts did not care for Jedi, they were usually responsible for freeing slaves, destroying gangs, and fighting battles that disrupted galactic trade. “I will give your Captain the ship,” he turned to Nosc, “for two months of exclusive route.” He turned back to Remi, “but you will fight for me.” The former Jedi’s expression did not change. “I know about your weakness, you only need to survive for a minute.”

Remi turned slowly surveying the ring she was standing in. “No way Drooga.” Nosc said angrily. “This is between you and me, leave her out of this.”

“Then go back to where you came from.” Drooga said, he waved his hand a tall man dressed in shiny new armor. “One minute, no blasters.” He settled back popping another eye in his mouth.

“Names Besh,” the armored man said circling. “My family was killed by Jedi. You won’t last thirty seconds.” He brought up his gauntlet-flamethrower. Nosc opened her mouth to object then closed it, a flamethrower was not a blaster. Remi rushed him, she was slower than normal without the Force to augment her speed and reflexes but he had aimed his flamethrower almost point-blank and he did not expect her to run towards him. She rolled into him grabbing his flamethrower arm and threw him over her shoulder. He landed ungracefully, the plates of his own armor bruising him.

Remi stomped on his gauntlet, the flamethrower broke off. The bounty hunter rolled away cursing. He got to his feet and rushed Remi, she tried to side step at the last moment but his reach was too long. His gauntlet caught her chin and sent her reeling. She recovered, seeing double for a moment.

“Thirty seconds!” Nosc called. Remi rubbed her chin, watching Besh circle. He did not appear to have great balance, and the newness of his armor meant he was not used to fighting in it. He rushed her again this time she rolled to the ground toward him. He was not expecting a low target but tried to stomp down on her anyway. She blocked the kick with her forearms, she felt the pain of his heavy boots connecting solidly but she was able to trip him as she continued rolling. He went down again. She backed off knowing that time was running out.

“Ok Drooga that was one minute.” Nosc said turning to the Hutt.

He nodded at her in acknowledgement. “You may have your ship.” He said turning back to the fight.

“You said one minute!”

“To get your ship,” the Hutt agreed, “I never said I’d stop the fight. All my fights are to the death, I have a reputation you know.” Nosc’s hand drifted to her blaster but several turrets popped up aiming at her. She put her hands up, defeated.

“Remi,” Nosc yelled, “He’s not stopping the fight! You have to kill him!”

“Stars.” Remi muttered, her eyes scanned for cover or weapons, the ring was almost completely bare. Almost.

Besh laughed knowing he had the advantage. “You see this crest?” he pointed at the emblem at the top of his helm. “It’s the Jedi symbol broken and turned. That’s what I’ll do to you and the rest of the Jedi.” Remi wondered how long he had been waiting to explain that symbol to someone. “Hey Drooga,” he called turning his attention to the Hutt. “That no blasters rule only for the first minute?” The Hutt considered the question for a moment then nodded assent; his disgusting laugh echoed across the barge. Besh pulled out his blaster and looked toward the former Jedi.

Remi had started running for the flamethrower the moment Besh turned away. She was counting on a combination of ego, inexperience, and clumsiness to give her a chance. She grabbed the flamethrower just as Besh took aim. She aimed back flipping the switch, hoping the device stilled worked, and was rewarded with a stream of fire that engulfed him. Blinded, he panicked and shot randomly in her direction. Remi ran around Besh renewing the flames while avoiding his shots but she realized his armor was too good; the flamethrower did not have enough fuel to kill him. She expended the last of the fuel lining herself up between Besh and their audience. The flames had started to die but Besh still could not see. He rubbed at the front of his helm trying to clear the soot and grease that blocked his view.

“Hey Besh, when I kill you I’m taking your helm.” She said and dove to the side. Enraged and still blind, Besh shot directly at the place she had stood. The shots hit empty air, traveling beyond the arena to the platform where Nosc and the others watched. The blaster bolts ricocheted off the dais, one narrowly missing Drooga himself. That was when the automated turrets popped up out of the floor again, sighted the shooter, and put one hundred blaster rounds into his brand new armor. Besh fell to the ground.

“Clumsy Jedi! I could have been killed.” Drooga grumbled.

“Exciting wasn’t it?” Nosc asked bowing a little to the Hutt.

“Yes,” Drooga agreed, “but that’s not the point! Go take your ship, get off my barge.” He waved his hand already turning to the next course of his meal.

As Remi and Nosc crossed the arena to exit the barge, they passed Besh’s remains. The turrets had riddled him full of holes but his helmet was still intact. She kneeled and removed it revealing Besh’s face. He was young; his blond hair damp with sweat; his blue eyes stared up unseeing. She touched his face closing his eyes, he was not innocent, but his life had not let him be.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. She stood still holding his helm; she tucked it under her arm.

Nosc watched the scene before her and shook her head. “Still a Jedi.” She muttered under her breath.

Remi drifted into consciousness, she slowly became aware of her surroundings. She was not wearing her armor and she was not alone, panic gripped her for a moment then she remembered. Relaxing, she glanced at the man beside her, this time Lord Scourge really was asleep. She borrowed his robe wrapping it around her, smiling to herself at how much of it dragged on the floor. Barefoot and silent she made her way to the bridge. She picked up her helm from where it had fallen, running her finger over the emblem, the Jedi symbol broken and turned. She sat in the captain’s chair curling her legs under her and watched the stars slide past.

“I’m still going to kick your a** you know.” Kira said conversationally. She leaned against the doorway her expression warring between anger and amusement. Finally, amusement won out. She looked around locating the one console panel without buttons. Perching on it she leaned forward, “Sooo, Scourge huh.”

Remi blushed all the way to her toes but replied instead, “Sooo, Doc huh.”

“I always knew there was something between you two.” Kira asserted trying to keep the conversation away from Doc.

“You mean back when he felt nothing, nothing, and hatred for Jedi?”

“That’s just it,” Kira insisted. “He respected you. He hardly ever did that whole mocking sarcasm thing when you spoke.” Remi smiled a little stroking the sleeve of her borrowed robe but said nothing. “So are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

Kira gestured with her hands giving her former master a knowing smile, “How was it?”

“Kira!” Remi squeaked then covered her mouth looking around. They both giggled hysterically. When they finally stopped, they stared at each other in silence for a few moments.

“We’ll be at Tython tomorrow, are you coming back to the Order?” Kira asked soberly.

“Grey is too useful for me to reveal to everyone on Tython. Some of my contacts would be in danger if people found out I was a Jedi. ” Remi answered. “And you know there are leaks.” She added looking troubled, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But yes, give me a few weeks, Grey will go into early retirement and I’ll return as Remi.” She hesitated, “If they’ll have me.”

Kira made a rude noise. “They’re blind and clueless but they wouldn’t throw away a weapon.” She looked down at her hands. “It’ll be a relief you know, I never could replace you.”

“They should never have made you try.” Remi said. “We’re different forms; you shouldn’t use Ataru in closed spaces or Soresu for aggressive combat.”

“Trust you to make a martial forms analogy. You're a better fighter than I ever was.”

“You’re a better Jedi than I ever was.” Remi said softly.

Kira thought about the past few years her anger welling up again. “That’s only because you quit. ” She let some of her frustration show. “You didn’t even say goodbye to anyone. Did you know T7 kept trying to find you? He stowed away on shuttles so he could go look for you! Jedi = Needs T7 // T7 = Find Jedi.” She turned away biting her tongue on the rest of what she wanted to say. Remi's heart clenched at the mention of her oldest friend.

“Kira,” Remi said breaking the silence. “I made a mistake; I thought I was forcing the council to see its faults. I didn’t know then what I know now, I should have found a better way. I’m sorry, I don't know what else to say.”

Kira looked at her former master. The years had transformed her memory of Remi into a figure, a perfect hero, someone who marched into the Dark Temple fearlessly and returned victorious and unscathed, that was how all the stories told it. Now, looking down at the very real woman wrapped in an oversized robe, she remembered what it had really been like. How desperate their plan had been, how it had taken not just Remi but the whole crew and the entire Republic fleet, how they scrambled out of the temple before it could collapse on them, and even in victory, how uncertain they were of their success. She could never understand how the perfect hero could just pick up and leave, but that hero never existed, there was only a mortal fallible woman who did what she could with what she had. The anger and resentment ran out of her. She smiled crookedly, “Jedi forgive right?”

Remi smiled sadly, “I wouldn’t know. But maybe friends do?”

Kira got up and hugged Remi who squeezed her back. “Friends do.” She replied. Then she walked around the captain’s chair and headed back to bed. “And if the council finds out about me and Doc,” Kira called over her shoulder. “I’ll just tell them about you and Scourge.”

“Grey Mantis to Tython Orbital Station,” Grey said. “Requesting permission to dock, I am delivering passengers, including one Jedi Knight Kira Carsen.”

“You are clear to dock.” The control operator replied. “As an unmarked vessel. You will be met in the airlock by armed guards. Do not be alarmed, it’s just a precaution.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Remi wore her full armor, she insisted they go back to calling her Grey; she did not want any holocameras picking up her face or anything that might give away her cover. She docked with the station. “Ok, everybody out.” She announced.

Doc, Kira, and Lord Scourge were waiting at the ship entrance. “I’m not going with you to the council.” Lord Scourge said.

“But, we need to report.” Kira protested.

“Yes, and you will do so far more convincingly without me. You may tell them I have gone to look for the Jedi.” They had all agreed that Remi’s current occupation and location should remain a secret. Scourge walked away from the entrance toward the bridge.

“Great, I get to face the council alone.” Kira muttered. Remi popped the entrance hatch. As promised, a security team met Kira and Doc at the airlock. Once they were safely in the turbo lift Remi closed the hatch and returned to the bridge. Scourge had taken up his place in the corner.

“What makes you think you can stay?” She teased.

“This persona of yours is not amusing.” He frowned at her. “Remove your helmet.”

She released the dock and steered the ship away from the orbital station. Once she had enough distance she engaged the hyperdrive heading for Nar Shadaa.

“Sorry, not on the second date either.” She replied, laughing at his scowl.


Nosc and Remi hopped into a speeder-cab and headed to the spaceport.

“What was that back there?” Nosc asked.

“What this?” Remi held up Besh’s helmet. “I’m not sure why I…”

“Not that.” Nosc interrupted.

“The fight? But I had to kill...”

“Not that either.” The smuggler crossed her arms growing increasingly annoyed.

“You lost me.” Remi said rubbing her chin. She instantly regretted it as her bruises were starting to hurt. She looked down at her forearms. Combined, the bruises would look exactly like a boot print. She could not get armor fast enough.

“Your name, you told Drooga your full, real name. Who does that?” Nosc said with disgust tossing her a medpack. “We could have avoided a fight if they didn’t know who you were.” Remi seriously doubted that but she nodded anyway. “Look, I don’t know what you’re going to be doing, and I don’t want to know. But if you want to survive in places like this, it would be better if the real you just disappeared.”

Remi nodded applying kolto to her wounds with relief. “I’ll give it some thought. Thank you.”

“And that! Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Being so nice and polite, what’s wrong with you? Even the other Jedi I know aren’t as sickening as you.” Nosc sighed, “Look I know you have a little attitude in there somewhere, what you said to Besh, and when you were negotiating with me, but when you negotiate with strangers you go into diplomatic mode, and you need to make a first impression. What happens when diplomacy doesn’t work?”

Remi thought about it. “I usually kill everyone.”

Nosc froze for a moment; sometimes her friend could be really scary without even trying. “Well maybe if you start with attitude you won’t have to kill so many.”

“That is completely counterintuitive.”

Nosc rubbed her forehead. “Just trust me ok. You don’t need the Force to talk your way out of a tough spot and sometimes if you show enough brass people won’t put you in a tough spot in the first place.”

“Brass.” Remi repeated not comprehending at all.

Nosc sighed. “Well if you can’t do rude, maybe you can be the silent type. It gives people a chance to get the wrong impression.”

“What about negotiating?”

“That’s a tough one, for that just be greedy. Ask for double or triple of everything. Never accept the first offer. If the offer is more than what you were going to ask, ask what the catch is. They’ll never tell you the catch so try to trick them into telling you.” Nosc ran through all the negotiating and con artist tricks she knew. Remi listened attentively committing the advice to memory; it was all good if a bit biased toward a criminal’s way of thinking.

They arrived at the spaceport and got out of the speeder, Remi handed the driver his credits. He was a terrified looking Evocii who took the credits with something like surprise. Remi wondered how many of his riders actually paid, she smiled at him reassuringly he gave her a terrified look and sped off.

“Oh and stop smiling.” Nosc added as they walked to the hangar where Remi’s new ship waited.

“Smiling?”

“Yeah around here only politicians and salesmen smile, so don’t smile at anyone or people will think you’re up to something. Unless…” Nosc trailed off.

“Unless?” Remi was starting to see how one word could get people to talk as effectively as a whole sentence.

“Well,” Nosc raised an eyebrow at her friend. “You’re not Jedi anymore, so let’s just say in this kind of place, don’t smile at a man unless you want him to get ideas.”

“Oh,” Remi said touching her face careful of her bruises. She had known this would be difficult but she was starting to understand how fundamentally different her new life would be. “Maybe I can just wear a helmet all the time.” She held up Besh’s helm.

“If you’d wear a dead guy’s helm you’re already halfway to the creepy you’ll need to be to survive this.” Nosc said shuddering.

“Nah, this one is flawed.” Remi replied examining it. “It was too easy to blind Besh, I need to find something better.” She ran her finger over the symbol at the top. “I like the emblem though.”

Remi returned to the Promenade Cantina very different from the first time. She had a ship thanks to Nosc, an engineer droid courtesy of Risha, more blasters than she knew what to do with thanks to Corso, and she even received some instruction once they realized she never fired a blaster before.

To her surprise, Akaavi had found her a set of armor. The mandalorian had always been distant. Apparently risking the wrath of the Council to save her crew had won her over. Single handedly killing an army of mercenaries did not hurt either.

“This armor,” the Zabraak explained, “is similar to the set a young warrior would wear when she reaches adulthood.” Akaavi let Remi try the armor on, showing her how it should fit. “It is not beskar but it will serve you well.”

“How old are your warriors when they get this kind of armor?” Remi marveled at how well she could move.

Akaavi adjusted the fit carefully, Remi nodded when it felt right. “Thirteen.” She answered, “But we rarely have warriors as thin as you.” She frowned. “When was the last time you’ve eaten?” Remi shrugged, it had been a busy day. “I thought this might happen. Here.” She pulled out a warming box.

Remi looked into the box, the pungent smell made her eyes water. “Is it a weapon?” she asked.

Akaavi showed her teeth, “It is Tiingilar. I do not know much about the Force, but I have heard it sustains you. Now that you no longer have it, you must find other sustenance. Haili cetare.” She said shoving the box into Remi’s hands.

Remi smiled at the memory. She may have lost half of her taste buds to the spicy dish but she felt stronger and not as cold. She would remember to eat regularly if only to prevent Akaavi from attacking her with food again.

Now armed, armored, and flight ready she met with Ardun Kothe, head of a special division of SIS. He wanted her to join a special task force designed to get the kind of information they would need to win the war. They were sitting at a bar in a private room at the back of the cantina.

“When you responded to my message,” Kothe began, “I thought I’d have to walk you through setting up a cover and finding your way around. It seems you’re a few steps ahead of me.” He eyed her with respect, “If you’re willing, I could use you.”

“It’s not just a cover.” Remi said, “I need to be independent, there’s some things I need to do.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with a particular Sith Lord that recently left Republic Space would it?” He asked carefully.

Remi snorted, unsurprised that he heard of Lord Scourge or the rumored reasons for her leaving the Order. “Nah, that’s something else.” Kothe only raised an eyebrow. “I’ll tell you about it sometime but for now let’s just say I serve the Republic but I have to do it my way.”

Kothe nodded, as a former Jedi himself he understood completely. “So how about a code name. Satellite?”

“I suppose it’s better than ‘The Idiot’ but I’d prefer Grey.” *

He eyed the crest of the helm that sat next to Remi. She had explained it to him earlier. “As in Gray Jedi, practitioners of both the dark and light side of the Force?” Kothe asked staring intently at Remi.

Remi shifted uncomfortably, she remembered the times when the Force was different and those flashes of her past that she could not remember. “Well, more like the kind of Jedi that tells the Council to get spaced.” She returned his stare.

Kothe smiled, “I don’t know what you mean. All right, Grey it is. I’ll set up some drop sites for when I need to contact you.” He got up to leave, “See you around Remi.” He said turning to look at her.

Grey had put on her helm, the mask stared back at him, “Who’s Remi?” she asked.

Kothe likes to assign his code names based on Centran Sabacc cards. He calls it the "Deck" in the IA Story line.
The Imperial Agent gets the code name Legate. Chance, Wheel, and Satellite are also Centran cards.

'The Idiot' is a face card of a regular Sabacc deck.

I don't know if that helps the dialog make more sense.

I really hope they add Sabacc in some playable form to SW:TOR.