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“This isn’t about revenge.” Corran shook his head and pain washed over his face. “It’s about obligations I have to people. People who helped me, other prisoners were on the Lusankya when it blasted out of here. I promised them I’d come back for them. Well, we know where they are: Thyferra. It’s time we go get them.”

Wedge nodded. “We clearly cannot leave Ysanne Isard and Fliry Vorru in charge of the galaxy’s bacta supply. We’re producing rylca now and might be able to produce some bacta later, but that’ll never be enough. We’re going to have to go after Iceheart, and I’d prefer it to be sooner rather than later.”

Borsk Fey’lya’s fur rippled. “But, in fact, Commander Antilles, your quest will never take place.”

“What?”

The Bothan clasped his hands together at his waist. “The Provisional Council will never sanction an operation against Thyferra. We have your orders to join the Mon Remonda and head out after Warlord Zsinj.”

“Those orders were issued before Iceheart escaped with Erisi and Fliry Vorru. It was before she took Thyferra. We can’t be expected to follow those orders.” Wedge stared disbelieving at the Bothan Councilor. “That’s not right.”

“Oh, it is quite right, Commander. Remember, the people of Thyferra overthrew their own government and installed Ysanne Isard as their leader. This makes the revolution there nothing more than a case of internal political maneuvering.”

A cold chill ran down Wedge’s spine. “And the Provisional Council cannot allow itself or its agents to interfere in the internal politics of a world, because that would frighten off potential member states from joining the New Republic.”

“It might even convince some others to leave and break the New Republic apart.” Borsk Fey’lya glanced at Corran Horn. “You might as well accept the Jedi’s offer because your unit can do nothing on Thyferra. Rogue Squadron has other duties now.”

Corran arched an eyebrow at the Bothan. “Okay, I quit.”

The fur on the back of Fey’lya’s neck rose like a rocket. “You cannot. Antilles, talk sense into him.”

Wedge snorted. “I’ve heard sense, and it’s coming from him.” Fey’lya’s tone of voice had told Wedge there was no way he could advance the Vratix case before the Council. The Vratix were the backbone of the Ashern, the native independence movement on Thyferra and Isard’s only opposition. His proposing that the Provisional Council back the Vratix and their claims to self-determination would meet with equal enthusiasm as any other idea about interfering with Thyferran internal politics. I promised Qlaern I’d do what I could for its people, but the New Republic is preventing me from keeping that promise.

Wedge rubbed a hand along his jaw. “I joined this Rebellion to fight the Empire’s tyranny. Just because we have Coruscant doesn’t mean it’s ended. The New Republic might not be able to strike at Thyferra, but there are Rebels around who can.” He smiled. “I quit, too.”

Borsk Fey’lya turned to his left. “It would appear, Captain Celchu, that Rogue Squadron is now your command.”

“I don’t think so.” Tycho shook his head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been a civillian. I’m out as well.”

Corran’s Gand wingman rested a hand on Corran’s shoulder. “Ooryl resigns.”

“Nawara and I are out,” Rhysati Ynr chimed in.

Gavin smiled. “I quit, too.”

Aril Nunb, Inyri Forge, and Riv Shiel all nodded in agreement. “We’re out.”

Asyr Sei’lar slipped in under Gavin’s arm. “I resign.”

Borsk Fey’lya stiffened. “You’re a Bothan. You cannot.”

“I’m a Rogue. It is done.”

The Bothan councilor snarled. “You can’t do this. You have no ships.”

“Begging your pardon, Councilor, but I never signed my X-wing over to the Rebellion. I have a ship.”

“Very well for you, Lieutenant Horn, but no one else does.” Borsk Fey’lya’s amethyst eyes burned with fury. “The rest of you have no resources for getting ships. One X-wing and some broken-down tramp freighter will take on a Super Star Destroyer?”

Mirax shot him a nasty glance.