There were three phases to the plan.

First, small groups would sneak down to the surface to sabotage the terraforming devices and weapons of destruction.

Second, one of those groups would seek out reporters so Peter could reveal he was still very much alive and address the people of the Imperium. He asked Mrill to stay near him, as her particular abilities required proximity.

Third, rebel ships would swoop down to shoot at the military bases and give the ground troops cover while they made a swift retreat.

As a major outpost, Nimnir had higher security than most worlds of the Imperium. However, it also was an important commercial hub. Posing as merchants, with the required identification—all of it forged, of course—five ships flew down to the surface.

They landed in different cities, on different continents, each holding one of this world’s five Imperial bases.

By necessity, Peter had picked the largest of them, because that was where most of the media had gathered.

They filed out of the ship—there were twelve of them—and walked calmly through the security checks. All their credentials were in order.

Mrill wondered why Peter was not concerned about being recognized. When she asked him, after they’d cleared security and were in the capital’s crowded streets, he winked at her.

“I look older, plus everyone thinks I’m dead. If anyone did recognize me, they’d likely think I was some freaky lookalike. Still, I haven’t come so far by taking unnecessary risks.” He pointed at his wristpad. “Roff, bless his heart, set me up with a scrambler. Makes me look like someone else.”

“I still see you as I did before,” she said blankly.

“As would anyone who knows I’m alive. The scrambler doesn’t work on me but on those who look at me. Their perception is altered, making them see whatever they want to see. Since you already know who I am, it cannot affect you.”

“Nanobots?” she asked.

He pursed his lips, glancing at his wristpad. “I’m not sure how it works, to be honest, but I don’t think it’s nanotechnology. More likely quantum. Or maybe thilium.”

“I didn’t know Roff could do something like that.”

“He’s good with his hands.”

The twelve of them split into smaller groups. Mrill went with Peter and Kesh. They hopped into a hovercab that sped toward the base.

“How will we get in?” asked the dark-haired man.

“Multiple badges have been loaded into your wristpad. We’ll be using number two at the next checkpoint. That will give us clearance as journalists.”

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Kesh snickered. “That’s clever.”

Mrill scrolled through the list on her wristpad’s screen.

“Will we need all these?”

“Probably not,” said Peter. “But I like to have a backup plan. And a backup for the backup.”

She nodded, face expressionless.

The cab dropped them off at the front of the base. Their wristpads were scanned, and they were let in.

A corporal guided them through the compound and left them in the media building where all the reporters had gathered.

“What now?” asked Kesh as he glanced around.

“Now, we sneak out.”

“I thought you wanted to talk to those guys.” He pointed at the journalists, who were busy recording their reports.

“There will be time for that later. But first, we must do our part. Through here, I believe.”

He pointed at a door, and they followed him.

They looked over their shoulders, but no one was paying attention to them.

Mrill pulled the cylinder from her pouch, though she did not activate the blade, keeping the item clenched in her fist, ready to use.

Her two companions walked ahead of her.

They turned at a corner and went quietly through another door that led them outside.

Peter pointed at a large building across from them.

“That’s our target,” he whispered. “It houses one of the terraforming devices meant for Qevahr.”

They sneaked in and slowly made their way through piles of metallic containers that reached almost to the ceiling.

“Where are the guards?” asked Mrill in her monotone voice.

“According to the blueprints, there’s an office in the back. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if there were some patrols walking around. Keep your ears and eyes open.”

As they made their way toward the center of the warehouse, they heard voices coming toward them. They stopped and pressed against the wall of containers, sinking into the shadows.

Two uniformed men appeared, walking casually down the aisle, rifles in hand as they argued about a bet. They went past the rebels without noticing them.

They waited for the voices to drift, then started again.

Soon, they came to an opening and saw a small vessel.

“That’s it. The device is on—”

“Peter.” Kesh was pointing at one of the containers. “Look. There are explosives in some of these! If we blow the ship up, it could take out the whole base.”

Their leader frowned as he considered the containers. His eyes turned toward the back, where the office was.

“We could set a shield around the building, to contain the explosion. But those men...”

“Can you set a timer on your bomb?” asked Mrill.

He glanced at her. “That’s the plan. Why?”

“If I know the time, I can compel the guards to leave before it goes off.”

“Won’t they know something’s wrong?”

The blue-skinned woman shrugged. “Later, perhaps, but not while it’s happening. It’ll feel natural to them. Something they were always meant to do.”

“Can you do it from here?”

“No. I’ll need to get closer. I can do it while you set the bomb.”

Peter thought on this for a moment, then nodded.

“Alright. I’ll take care of the ship.” He looked at Kesh. “You, get the shield ready. Set a timer on it as well, so it’ll deploy five minutes before everything blows.”

They agreed on a time, then split up, each going about their task.

Mrill found the office easily enough. As she got closer, voices grew louder. People talking and laughing. She paused when she felt she was within range and prodded with her mind. Finding her targets, she slipped inside them unnoticed. Such doing was never difficult for her, but was made easier still by their relaxed state—a few were even drunk.

Little by little, she molded their thoughts, planted the suggestion and the impulse that would be required. Set them to surface at the agreed time.

When she was done, she turned and headed back toward the entrance. She cast her mind out, searching for the two patrols. After she found and molded them as well, she exited the building and waited.

Her two companions soon arrived. Kesh leaned to dig a small hole at the base of the building, slipped a device into it, then buried it.

Once done, they hurried back to the media room.

It was time for Peter to make his announcement.