silence. Leia threw a look at Karrde, seated a quarter of the way around the observation deck from her. But his attention was turned outward through the transparisteel bubble, his face impassive. Perhaps he was remembering the last time he'd been to this spot. "What if I refuse?" Wedge asked at last.
"Forget it, Wedge," Han's voice cut in. "It's not worth risking a court martial over. Go on, we don't need you anymore. Nice hearing from you, Fey'lya." There was the faint click of a disconnecting comlink-
"Solo!" Fey'lya barked, leaning over the comm as if that would do any good. "Solo!" He turned and glared at Leia. "Get over here," he ordered her, jabbing a finger at the comm. "I want him back."
Leia shook her head. "Sorry, Councilor. Han won't listen to anyone when he's like this."
Fey'lya's fur flattened. "I'll ask you one more time, Councilor. If you refuse-"
He never had a chance to finish the threat. Something flickered at the edge of Leia's peripheral vision; and even as she turned to look, the Quenfis's alarms went off. "What-?" Fey'lya yelped, jerking in his seat and looking frantically around him.
"It's an Imperial Star Destroyer," Karrde told him over the blaring of the alarms. "And it appears to be coming this way.
"We got company, Rogue Leader," one of Wedge's X-wing pilots snapped as the sound of the Quenfis's alarms came hooting over the comm. "Star Destroyer; bearing one-seven-eight mark eighty-six."
"Got it," Wedge said, turning his ship away from its confrontation with the Quenfis's approaching starfighters and bringing it around in a tight one-eighty. It was a Star Destroyer, all right: almost straight across from the Quenfis, with the Katana dead center between them. "Luke?" he called.
"We see it," Luke's voice came back tightly.