Back at the base, the Intruders, despite the slovenly, by Core Worlder military standards, appearance, were already turning their X-wings around on the maintenance. The techs were on it while the pilots rested, but once the pilots got their sack time, they were back in the effort to run diagnostics and scheduled maintenance. It wasn't as simple as just parking the X-wing like an air car, it was a combat spacecraft tuned with performance in mind, and that meant maintenance was intensive. 

There were never enough techs to go around, but this band of junkers, smugglers, survey spacers, pirates and systems defense force veterans were used to having to do it themselves. 

Readiness was important because if they might have to launch at a moment's notice. It'd happened before. 

So when one of Xen's flunkies came around with an invitation for Shan, it was met with annoyance -- he was greasy, dirty and sweating from the intensive work of overhauling one of the engine units in his X-wing that came up with a questionable status, some sort of wiring issue or a gasket or one of the many different forms of wear and tear that could befall highly and precisely tuned performance craft. With sweat on his brow and goggles over his eye, an arc-welder in hand, he shrugged and left the gear on a wheeled table. 

If Xen was asking for an audience, he'd get Shan as the invitation arrived. And so even with the cocked eyebrow of the aide asking a silent question of his attire and presentation, he stomped, in reinforced work boots and stained coveralls to meet the CO.