The New Republic, while not the first to arrive on the scene, were among the early responders to the Firrerreo genocide. After dispatching a small defense force, one that met zero enemy opposition, Senator Vaisra arrived to the planet with a far more appropriate response team, including a Redemption-class medical frigate dubbed ‘The Preserver,’ a fitting name if there ever was one. Accompanied by a division of Republic peacekeepers and Chancellor Ro’s blessings, they intended to join the efforts in salvaging the devastated world.
Aboard one of the many shuttles descending into Firrerre's atmosphere, Jin waited. He wore a lightly armored suit and blast vast, with a cartridge belt armed not with ammunition packs, but sedatives and bacta sprays. He hadn’t brought a full head mask—mostly for the sake of staying photogenic—but as he stood alone in the ship’s cabin, he almost wished he had.
“Seven hells,” he cursed, and wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You can smell the shit burning from orbit.”
Venka, his personal bodyguard, seemed to materialize out of the corner beside him, shaking her head with disappointment. “Millions of people have just been senselessly murdered.”
“And so has my appetite for the day.” He grimaced and adjusted his collar. “Let’s just get this over with, Venka.”
As they landed on the rocky surface, Jin stepped out of the transport and into the blistering heat of the city that was once the capital of Firrerre. Clouds of ash swirled in the sky, blocking out any chance for sun, and it was as if night had permanently settled over the planet—the longest night in its history. But Jin didn't mind. He was used to working in the shadows.
As Venka trailed him up a crater, he ordered a waiting squad of peacekeepers to fan out, sweeping a hand over the stretch of debris. “Check the surrounding area. Leave no stone unturned. There must be someone out there who needs our help.”
They did as he told, spreading over the maze of rubble and stone. Jin, on the other hand, made his own way and toward a ruined skyscraper. Appearances had to be maintained. He, nor the Republic, could risk looking callous in the face of a planetary genocide, especially with the media prowling for another meal, another career to publicly tarnish.
Everyone had their roles to play. Jin would play his to perfection.