Feb. 2nd, 2010


[N, Fury, Report 007, Operation: Red Horizon]

[0700 hours]

Spider-Man fucking captured and taken hostage. Possibly dead. Motherfuck. Takign a small strike force and going after him. If I don't make it back, the pilots are instructed to vacate and depart at 0700 hours on the 3rd with or without me.

Feb. 1st, 2010


[N, Fury, Report 006, Operation: Red Horizon]

[0800 hours]

Defense towers have been taken (against orders, with injury to the "agents" involved) so once the station is entirely clear, will begin assault on enemy ship. Expected assault within the next few days. Efforts to clear will continue today.

Jan. 31st, 2010


[N, Fury, Report 005, Operation: Red Horizon]

[0900 hours]

Successfully took both the operations center and the communications cluster, though there was a casualty in our ranks. Efforts being made to get station defenses back online. Enemies have been forced to the areas closest to their docked vessel, but have been launching offensives. Attack launched later in the night, possibly as retaliation for the capture of the station's hub. Base was protected, heavy enemy casualties.

Jan. 30th, 2010


[N, Fury, Report 004, Operation: Red Horizon]

[1300 Hours]

Gained some ground, but offensive not completely successful in taking communications cluster, as expected. Will continue push today. Specimen brought in for study. Note particular weak point in front mid abdomen. Nearly the whole of the habitation deck is in our control, a small victory. If possible will take ops center along with communications cluster today.

Jan. 29th, 2010


[N, Fury, Report 003, Operation: Red Horizon]

[0900 Hours]

Base in the med lab in the third habitation deck completely secured. Will be launching an offensive today with the ultimate end of taking the communications cluster. Not optimistic that the task can be achieved today, but at the very least I can expect some major damage to those bitches. Also, orders already being undermined as "agents" keep going off on their own. Not liable if motherfuckers die.

Jan. 28th, 2010


[N, Fury, Report 002, Operation: Red Horizon]

[1200 hours]

There was some difficulty finding an open docking point. The enemy has taken over a large portion of the space station. We'll have to hunker down and defend a point. There are no signs of human life from our scanners, so at least we don't have hostages to concern ourselves with from the outset. Here's a rough break down of enemy infiltration in the station thanks to a preliminary scan. The red marks the parts of the Horizon that the enemy holds (note that they currently have control of the communications and ops areas).

The Horizon )

Their own ship is held is docked at one of the held docking areas. The blue marks where we've docked. There are still areas of the habitation decks free where we can set up a base and work to regain important areas of the space station through offensive maneuvers. Drop your cocks and grab your socks, boys and girls, it's time to disembark.

((OOC: Yes, I know what this space station is from. Maybe the architect really digs Star Trek. After that little reference in his speech, Nick is face-palming, all around.))

Jan. 27th, 2010


[N, Fury, Report 001, Operation: Red Horizon]

The shuttle has successfully broken earth's atmosphere and is en route to destination. All on board have been provided with SHIELD uniforms, weapons, and temporary clearance to access the shuttle's computer systems for the duration of the mission. ETA to Horizon: 0900 hours January 28th.

Jan. 16th, 2010


My fellow Americans and citizens of the world...


"Yes, the military uniform works best," the wardrobe woman said and took one last look at Nick, nonplussed as he glared up at her. "Better than that scary S.H.I.E.L.D. black." She scuttled off and Nick settled himself in his chair, looking around at all the people crammed into his office. Camera people and military people and a few senators and the guy running the teleprompter he was supposed to read from. Nick Fury, man of the people, Director of
S.H.I.E.L.D., solver of crisis, addressing the world in a live satellite feed crossing millions of miles in milliseconds. Nick Fury's scarred and scowling face on screens all over the globe. Someone told him to smile. He grimaced. They began rolling the footage of the massacre in space. The cameraman counted down, transmission to begin in four-three-two-one-

"My fellow Americans," did the teleprompter really say that? Christ. Nick resisted the urge to roll his eye. "And citizens of the world. The disturbing images you have just seen are real. This transmission was received three days ago from the Horizon Satellite Space Station. Ten years ago, countries from all over the globe sent the Horizon up in a cooperative effort to garner knowledge and foster peaceable relations, to seek out new lives and new civilizations-" oh hell no, someone was getting shot for this, "and as a testament to the earth's tenacious spirit and will. These pioneers have been massacred, and now the world wants to know why."

Drivel over, Nick could finally get to the point, "To answer this question, the United Nations has decided to utilize S.H.I.E.L.D. As Director of the organization, I will head a task force to go up into space, to the Harmony, in search of answers and to combat this alien threat to the planet. I ask for the aid of the earth's meta-humans to accompany me on this mission, to surmount a danger beyond human capability. I hope that you will heed this call not just for the sake of humanity but for the sake of your home, this earth." Someone counted on their fingers. The camera went off and Nick heaved a sigh, buried his face in his hands. If it was up to him, he wouldn't have read what they scrolled in front of him. If it was up to him, Nick Fury would've announced to the world Motherfuckers, we are going hunting.

November 2015




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