Handong struggled to keep her stricken fighter steady. The fight with the MiGs had left her aircraft shot full of holes from near-misses by their missiles, but then she had managed to down both hostiles. She had used up the last of her J-10's ammunition in the fight and if any interceptors from Area 88 would take shots at her, she would not be able to shoot back. 

Her aircraft trailed a plume of black smoke from the exhaust while streaks of white vapour billowed from the holes in the wings. The displays in front of her flashed red, then died out in bursts of sparks. Not that it mattered now as her focus was to land what was left of her fighter while she could still maintain control of it. 

Down below, the base was on full alert as the Chinese fighter approached the end of the runway. Pickup trucks dashed across the tarmac, squads of armed guards spilling out of the back and taking positions, their rifles at the ready. The anti-air gunners all looked up, their sights and barrels trained on the fighter that was coming in hot. 
Already, there were two interceptors in the air; a pair of F-16s, each packing the roundels of the Asranian Royal Air Force. 

She drew in a breath, watching both fighters from the corners of her eyes as both pulled alongside her- then peeled off and and circled the base, as if understanding her intentions. So far so good. No one had shot at her... Yet.

-

The crippled fighter landed, its tires bursting on touch-down as the pilot cut its engine, skidding to a halt amidst a shower of sparks. The stench of heated metal and burnt rubber filled the desert air as a small crowd of pilots and mechanics moved over to gawk, before promptly being shooed off by the guards. Eight of the guards then took positions around the smoking fighter, their weapons at the ready as the two fighters from earlier circled overhead

Handong glanced around, eyeing the dozens of automatic rifle muzzles staring back at her from around the outside of her plane . Being careful not to make any sudden moves that would make her get shot full of holes like her fighter, she slowly undid the seals from the canopy, pushing it up after as she then undid the straps holding her into the ejector seat. Undoing her oxygen mask, she then vaulted herself over the cockpit's edge, slowly letting herself drop down, then dropped to her knees after tossing her helmet aside, placing both hands on the sides of her head. 

The last thing she remembered was a pair of guards walking towards her, one of them with zip-ties in hand.

-

The next few hours went by in a blur. She was made to sit down in front of a desk. Officers walked in and out. Asking her the same questions over and over. The sheer monotony was already starting to get to her. She rolled her eyes in irritation each time someone walked in and the same questions would bombard her.

"Name."
"Han Dong."
"Rank?"
"....Second Lieutenant."

"Nationality?"

"Chinese."
"Former affiliation?"
"People's Liberation Army Air Force." 

And so the questions continued. Over and over. 

Just kill me now and get this over with. I swear to God. 

And then the door opened, the sound waking her up just as she was about to nod off. A tall man in officer's uniform, with long hair and an 'X'-shaped scar in the middle of his forehead glanced over at her from behind a pair of dark aviator's sunglasses as his subordinates stood up to salute him. She moved to get up too, then sank back on the chair as she remembered her hands were still tied. 

"Commander Vashtal-"
"As you were." 

"So.." The commander looked in her direction as he spoke, then turned his attention back to the officer at the desk in front of her. "This is the pilot that gate-crashed the base hm?"

"Yes, sir. She's been quite cooperative with us. There was no need to coerce her, unlike that deserter from Korea we tossed into solitary confinement yesterday." 

Said subordinate then handed a clipboard over to said commander. 

"I see." 

Ah . Here we go again. 

"Second Lieutant Handong.." 

"Yes. That's me. Please. No more questions. I told them everything I know." She blurted out, trying to hide the irritation in her voice as she looked up at the Commander, drawing in a breath in an attempt to hide her rising irritation.

He glanced at the clipboard's contents, then at the captured pilot in front of him before continuing, his expression hidden by his shades.

"People's Liberation Army Air Force. And from the patches on your flight suit, you seem to be part of an elite unit." 

And all she could do was nod in response. 

"Clearly you're not here to spy on us. You're a defector. From the PLAAF black ops unit in Azadistan I presume?"

"No- yes... Okay sort-of. I was part of an experimental squadron that was stationed in Djibouti. We were preparing to launch into Azadistan to join the black-ops unit when I decided to run."

"And you came all the way here, instead of seeking out an Asranian Foreign Legion unit. You are quite cooperative, which earns you points for good behaviour. However that does not excuse you violating Asranian air space, especially in a no-fly zone."

Handong went silent, closing her eyes after. 

This is it. They're gonna have me dragged out and shot.

The conversation between the officer and the commander continued, her half-asleep self only managing to pick up fragments of the conversation.

"..We are not going to shoot her. We're in need of some pilots and who are we to waste one that literally dropped in our lap."

"Then what shall we do with her?"

"Throw her in with our Korean friend and his pals. That squadron needs a proper pilot and all the other squadrons are full, as of the moment."