A/N: This is an idea I came up with after first visiting this site back in August. Before then, I was never into fanfics, but they grew on me rather quickly. But soon after finally deciding to start writing this, I started working, which naturally cut deeply into my amount of free time. So Aquila, as presented here, will be fairly condensed. Of course, I will be trying to get my full story across to you, but at least for now the chapters will be somewhat short (although the prologue was always intended to be so) and fast-paced. But please, I hope you all still manage to enjoy my first foray into the fanfic scene.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Wednesday, 6 August 2003 - Area 26021-3

An explosion.

A siren goes off, and anti-aircraft artillery cannons come to life.

Not for long. Low-flying attackers quickly make a sweep of the guns, taking them out before focusing on some howitzers that were being brought out. The enemy, caught by surprise, does their best to scramble fighters to intercept them.

It is futile. The invaders brought fighters of their own, which suddenly drop down from the sky and unleash a hail of fire upon the pilots desperately trying to claw their way skyward. They didn't stand a chance.

They know why they're being attacked. They knew this day would come, but they could not prepare for what was happening. Incoming ground forces are spotted, and tanks are deployed. But this is nearly just a formality; they have no cover left. The attackers come in again and rack up some easy kills.

But they do it carefully. They avoid damaging the infrastructure. They don't want it out of the way. They intend to keep the base as their own.

The ground forces pull in closer. Troops at the base still resist, despite the fact that they know their efforts are in vain. They get picked off, one by one, as they slowly retreat, as if hoping to find some kind of advantageous refuge from which they can stave off these fiends.

But to no avail.

How long has it been? Days? Weeks? It feels as though an eternity. For hours, this goes on.

They begin to take their tanks to the runway, knowing that the enemy will need this later on. If they are attacked, the steel carcases will block it and no planes can land. But of course, none can leave, either. They are attacked from the air as they try, but press on in near-ignorance.

At this point, they know they won't survive.

The invading tanks simply break through and ram the few vehicles that could make it to the runway back off of it. They have every advantage, and they know it. So far, they'd been unstoppable, and that wasn't going to change here.

The remaining enemy troops are rounded up and imprisoned. The victors settle in, and send some men to the control tower. Their planes begin to land at the airfield.

And the war has only just begun.