Girls sports putting crimp on gym facilities

By JON GAST
"I kind of liken it to having a 10-person family and trying to fit them. into a two-bedroom house; you have to do things in shifts," said Sevastopol Athletic Director Eugene Waterstreet, referring to the problem of inadequate gym facilities for the growing number of sports in high school athletic programs.
It wasn't too many years ago that the problem was non-existent, but today, with the advent. of Title IX legislation, girls' programs are flourishing and because of this the number of teams in many high schools around the country have doubled. What has this meant to athletic programs?
The result is crowded gyms and shortened practices.
Possibly for the exception of Gibraltar, Door county high schools have felt the crunch to some degree and with girls' sports still not developed to their maximum, the situation could be worsening.
Probably the worst hit of the four schools is Southern Door. Athletic Director John Bowers said the school has had to do some juggling in order to accommodate the schools interscholastic sports program.
The Southern Door boys' and girls' varsity and junior varsity basketball teams get the use of the gym after school. One day the boys will practice from 3-4:30 p.m. while the girls go from 4:30 to 6 p.m. and the next day they will flip-flop. This takes up a pretty good chunk of the gym's free time considering the gym is used for numerous school and rec activities at night. So what about all the other interscholastic sports?
This is where Bowers turns into somewhat of a magician. The freshman basketball team practices the first three hours of the school day. According to Bowers, because the freshmen boys are too young to drive and must rely on parents for their transportation, it is not rational to have them practice at night or before school.
We still haven't covered wrestling or girls' gymnastics.
After all the meals are prepared and the mess cleaned up, the wrestlers roll out their mats in the cafeteria for their afternoon workouts. And. the girl gymnasts, contrary to popular opinion, don't get the library, they get the hallways.
That's right, they set up their equipment in the hallways in the afternoons.
An added problem for Bowers is the fact that there is no transportation for the group of basketball players practicing from 4:30-6 because the last bus leaves the school at 5:15.
"I think we have a little more of a problem out here," said Bowers, "because we are out in the country we have that problem with transportation."
Two things have helped ease the problem at Sturgeon Bay. First, the junior and senior high schools are separate, thereby relieving the problem caused by freshman sports. The second advantage that the Clippers own is in the layout of the high school. Sturgeon Bay has a balcony adjacent to the gym that allows for an area where wrestling practice can be conducted. It also has the added advantage of not having a girls' gymnastics program and in these times of added stress on facilities one less sport can make a lot of difference.
"So far we've been able to work things out," said Athletic Director Ron Casadont. "It's not the best system in the world, but at least everyone has time to work out."
As far as use of the gym is concerned, basketball uses up most of that time as it does at most schools; like at Southern Door, the Clippers boys and girls must share their time. One group goes from 2:30-5 while the other must come from 5-6:30.
"As more teams come in we'll have more problems," said Casadont. "But most of the coaches realize that we had better go on cooperating."
At Sevastopol, the Pioneers are engaged in the two-gym suffle. Wrestling, boys' basketball and girls' basketball are cooperating in sharing the elementary and high school gyms.
At present, Athletic Director Eugene Waterstreet is trying to keep things organized with a monthly schedule that directs each sport, when and where it is to practice.
"We haven't had any great problems," said Waterstreet. He has the junior high practicing from 2:15 to 3:05 each day with the high school teams taking over after school and at night. Because then are three teams for two gyms, one team often has to come back at night to practice. But as at the other schools, variables are involved, like interscholastic games at night or Rec League or a grade school game, all adding up to one big headache for Waterstreet.
One added problem that Waterstreet has is a Wednesday night ordinance that states that there will be no school activities after supper. This means one team is without practice time, but Waterstreet said that he has gotten around this with the cooperation of the girls' basketball team which has agreed not to practice on Wednesday nights.
The crowded conditions have forced many of the teams to move their practices to Saturday and there have been some on Sunday also.
A good example of a team feeling the crunch is the Sevastopol freshman team. The squad is scheduled with the varsity and junior varsity teams. But the priority that is given to the varsity and junior varsity often leaves the freshmen out in the cold, forcing them to search for spots of time when the gym is available. This means an inconvenience for parents who
must cart their boys to school at night or on a Saturday so the team can get in a decent practice.
Due to a decision by the Gibraltar school board, dropping athletics in the junior high, the Vikings. enjoy an escape from the "crowd." Add to this the fact that Gibraltar has no wrestling team and you have virtually no problem. The school has no problem in getting in both the boys' and girls' practices after school and still has plenty of time left over for intramurals.
"Our dropping the junior high program helped spacewise," said Principal Larry Lundell. "I don't know how it will eventually effect the team, though."
How does all this affect the performance of the athlete?
"I don't think it has that much effect on the athletes," said Bowers. "The kids go out because they enjoy the sport." As girls' sports grow so will the problems, "but, as Casadont said, the coaches will have to realize that for the sake of the survival of their own sport they will have to compromise on time. But, he said, as far as Sturgeon Bay is
concerned, the winter sports may not be the problem area. He feels that when the spring sports roll around the situation nay worsen for awhile as boys' track, girls' track, baseball and eventually girls' softball all must share the gym for a month or so while waiting for the thaw to arrive.
The more you think about it, 10 people in a two-bedroom house sounds kind of roomy.

https://archive.co.door.wi.us:443/jsp/RcWebImageViewer.jsp?doc_id=1e8fc801-90a4-4104-8e86-19a1ea0947dc/wsbd0000/20170120/00000587
Courtesy of the Door County Library Newspaper Archive

Previously posted:
Two articles by Jim Robertson, discussing girls' baseball
"Quotes his peers on Little League" from the April 9, 1974 Door County Advocate
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/13jk75i/quotes_his_peers_on_little_league_from_the_april/

"Problems start with tryouts" from the April 11, 1974 Door County Advocate
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/13kiv8q/problems_start_with_tryouts_from_the_april_11/

A series on girls' sports by Linda Adams
Part I of the series by Linda Adams was previously posted as
"Girls sports have come a long way, not far enough" from the December 27, 1973 Door County Advocate
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/133xv7s/girls_sports_have_come_a_long_way_not_far_enough/

Part II was previously posted as
"Inequities still show in girls sports programs" from the January 3, 1974 Door County Advocate
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/135abbt/inequities_still_show_in_girls_sports_programs/

Part III was previously posted as
"Community acceptance still not part of girls' sports" from the January 10, 1974 Door County Advocate
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/1369toz/community_acceptance_still_not_part_of_girls/

Part IV was previously posted as
"Athletic directors take wide look at girls sports" from the January 17, 1974 Door County Advocate
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/137a5bk/athletic_directors_take_wide_look_at_girls_sports/

Part V was previously posted as
"If past growth continues, girls sports will flourish" from the January 24, 1974 Door County Advocate
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/1385nqif_past_growth_continues_girls_sports_will/

(a response to the five-part series) "Girls sports pose problem" from the February 12, 1974 Door County Advocate
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/1395aem/girls_sports_pose_problem_from_the_february_12/

Other articles and posts
"Washington Island's Kay Curtis becoming a legend in her time" on June 14, 1977 in the Door County Advocate
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/131c1w8/washin

A grandmotherly perspective on eugenics from the June 2, 1915 Door County News
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/13b3zya/a_grandmotherly_perspective_on_eugenics_from_the/

"Comments from council" editorial, a rebuke from alleged woman's sports militant Rev. Gary Straughan, and a conciliatory response from Chan Harris from the Door County Advocate on May 9th & 14th, 1974
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/13lddoc/comments_from_council_editorial_a_rebuke_from/

"Provide equal programs" editorial from the April 30, 1974 Door County Advocate
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/13qakfe/provide_equal_programs_editorial_from_the_april/

Gibraltar's intended restroom design reduces students' safety
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/12uvmni/gibraltars_intended_restroom_design_reduces/

Gibraltar Area School District's proposed gender identity guidelines include a derogatory slur which disrespects most students.
https://www.reddit.com/DoorCountyALT/comments/13gpvx2/gibraltar_area_school_districts_proposed_gende

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I really just need to vent because I’m sick I’ve had the stomach bug since yesterday have felt really crummy ontop of being stressed out with exams
I have these massive exams coming up in 9 days. My mom is helping out with our oldest daughter and my youngest is usually with the sitters so I can study. A few weeks ago he came to me letting me know a guy he went to high school with had passed and some guys from his graduating class were organizing an informal reunion of sorts. He asked if he could go and I said that would be based on whether I could arrange a sitter because of how close it was to my exams. Earlier this week he asked again and I said sure I’d arranged with her sitter to take her he just would have to get her to the sitter (he sent our car to the mechanic). He said he’d make arrangements.
Yesterday he asked about her getting to the sitter I said I’d assumed the person who was giving him a lift to the reunion would give him a lift to drop her off. (I thought this was the arrangement he would have made when he said he’d make arrangements). He said he’d asked meaning he’d never made any arrangements assumed I wouldn’t and never bothered to tell me a thing. At 11pm he says his friend who’s taking him to the reunion wants him to meet him at 7am and that’s too early to drop off our daughter. Not to mention I’ve had the stomach bug since yesterday I can’t move more than 3 feet from the bathroom.
We are also under a weather alert due to a tropical storm and this reunion party is at a river.
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My family has been on a wait list for a local family doctor for about a year now, and we finally got a call to book an intake appointment. Right now two of us have another family doctor (who we love! but she’s unfortunately not taking any more patients), and two of us don’t have a family doctor at all. Initially I thought all of us going to the same doctor would be a great idea, but without having met this doctor, I’m worried that I’ll regret not keeping our beloved family doctor for the two of us fortunate enough to be with her.
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Number of vacant slots: 29
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Hey my dudes.
I started taking viibryd in Novembe Early Decemeber and I have noticed while on it I have symptoms of sleep anxiety. Since I started with the 10mg, then the 20mg I noticed I cannot nap at all. Even if I am beat I lay down for a nap, and I notice my body getting anxious and I end up laying there for 2 hours. Recently if I have to wake up early, I will not be able to sleep even if I will be getting 6+ hours of sleep a night. I will just lay there counting, meditating, ect. I have taken melatonin and even a low dose of edibles to try to sleep. The only thing that works is hydroxyzine to sleep on those nights.
Me and sleep have always had no issues before this medication.
Should I talk to my doctor and switch back to lexapro? Or any advice?
I have made efforts into a more scheduled routine and that has not helped( phone away before bed, meditating before sleep).

John asks for permission, for a change, to do something unorthodox. Does he get permission? Does it work? I hope you enjoy!
The next chapter will be out on Tuesday.
Terran Space Story: The Lieutenant Saga
Academy Days First Previous Next
Chapter 118: Master Escalator
1 Day Later. March 13th, 2267. 08:00 Slip Space – Captain’s Ready Room
John was sitting in his chair pleading his case to Admirals Dufresne and Dickinson. He had a hard time reading the men as they both had steeled themselves to reactions. Neither man appeared happy with the situation they were in. John wasn’t responsible for the situation, but it was undoubtedly clear- he was the one that lit the match.
“Sirs, now more than ever the Icarus needs to die. We kill her and this bullshit pirate alliance ends,” John said.
“How would you presume to do this,” Admiral Dickinson said, “The Icarus isn’t going to attack you if you have battlecruiser or battleship support.”
“Give me two more cruisers and four frigates. We ought to be able to make do with that,” John said.
Admiral Dufresne was the first to show a bit of emotion, “How are you going to pull that off?”
“There’s a large pirate base in the Altair system. If Naval Intelligence data is to be believed, and frankly I have no reason to suspect otherwise, it’s their primary staging point in this sector. It’s also lightly guarded at the moment because the pirate fleet is elsewhere.”
“So, you mean to toss gasoline onto the fire,” Admiral Dickinson nodded, “That could work. It does carry a fair amount of risk though. What if the pirates attack a colony.”
“Civilian sentiment leans strongly on us but it’s a simple majority at this point,” John said, “If they attack civilians then that sentiment is pegged against them.”
“He’s not wrong. The sentiment against them will grow slowly over time if they stick to attacking military assets. And frankly, we have far more of them than we do ships to guard them,” Admiral Dufresne said, “The problem is the request for ships. We don’t have any ships to give you.”
“There are six ships in the Altair system already,” John said pointedly.
“Which are there defending the military installation located there,” Admiral Dickinson said, “What would you have us do? Shut it down and transfer the crew?”
“Yes. For an inner-core system, it’s a shithole. The pirates built this base years ago but abandoned it. They came back recently, and we’ve tolerated their presence instead of snuffing it out,” John said, “I’m also going to need several prison transports rerouted. I see four empty ones within a day and another six that could be used for the same purpose that is two days out.”
“Can you work with Lieutenant Cohen again? You came down hard on him before,” Admiral Dufresne.
“It is unexpected, but I need his help more than I dislike him as a poor captain. It seems my critique of his actions has at the very least improved his ability to captain his ship though.”
“You have a go,” Admiral Dickinson said, “If this doesn’t work out in your favor this could end very poorly for us all.”
“Then I’ll have to ensure that it doesn’t, sirs,” John saluted then before ending the communication.
He had the green light and acquired more ships. Would it be enough? Time would tell. Even with their reinforcements, there was no guarantee that it’d work. But John knew his abrasive personality would get under his enemy’s skin. At a bare minimum, this action would draw out some of the pirates.
March 15th, 2267. 01:00 Altair System – In Orbit around the moon of the second planet
The pirates had not expected a fleet of Confederate ships to attack their base. In the past several months the Altair system served as a fuel stop for passing ships. Warships, of which dozens upon dozens came through the system, were there briefly and then left. The pirates were confident their reactivated base would be safe.
How wrong they were. Then again, how could the pirates predict the Confederacy to go on the attack so quickly? Their typical response was to pull back and guard, then push out. There was always time following an attack to breathe and generate momentum. This time though, that was not the case, this was not John’s way of responding to an attack.
Their base had been brutalized by orbital bombardment. All defensive weaponry, down to the last missile battery, had been utterly destroyed. There was nothing but wishful thinking preventing an assault on the base from happening. The pirate’s morale was low, but they were already prepared for an assault and had dug themselves in.
They were going to make the Confederates pay for each foot of the base they took. Heavy weapon platforms had been erected in the base’s hangars. They knew about the super-heavy power armor and were prepared for it. Or so they thought.
Leading the charge was a brash lieutenant with a somewhat bloodthirsty mood toward pirates. Even more scary, for the pirates that is, is that he was leading the charge on the base. John’s armor had been repainted pitch black. One knee pad was checkerboarded with white and red squares. His helmet was painted bronze, and its face shield had that distinctive white skull he always bore.
The Confederate attack on the enemy base didn’t go according to how the pirates presumed it would occur. Sure, they stormed the docking bays, but they did so after a team of Confederate scouts gained access to the base from a secret entrance on the surface of the moon. Those very same scouts’ mission was to disable the docking bays’ atmospheric shields. An inelegant manner of attack, but none of the pirates were wearing void suits.
Why fight a dug-in enemy when you can simply space the lot of them? Facing heavy weapons deep inside the base was unlikely. In the docking bays though? There was plenty of space to fire them without worrying about the structural integrity of the base. John’s plan was as cunning as it was ruthless.
The transport ships came in quickly and disgorged their armored cargo. Seven hundred and fifty power-armored foes began to fan out into the base. Fifty stayed behind to dismantle, or destroy, the heavy weapons and ensure the pirates don’t do anything to their rides home.
John led the charge down one corridor, “With me, we’re going to rush their central command.”
A squadron of marines, all wearing the older and diminutive suits of power armor, fell in behind John. They charged down the corridor. Unlike John, they did clear the intersections just in case. Some small arms fire came from in front of John, but the moment the pirates saw the hulking mass run towards them they bugged out quickly.
John arrived at the door to the central command of the station. It didn’t open when he pressed the console button in the frame. It also didn’t open when he smashed the button with a closed fist. That gave time for the Marines that were with him to catch up to him.
With his fingers extended John’s right hand shot forward at the point the two doors met in the middle. Both doors bent slightly inward because of the force imparted onto them. John followed that up with his left arm and forced the doors open.
No matter the number of protestations the door’s locking mechanisms gave, the Broadsword’s power was overwhelming them. The locks then succumbed to the imparted force, and the broken doors were wedged into the door frame.
John stepped inside and drew his battle rifle deftly, “Hands up, compliance or death, your choice.”
The guards on either side of the door jumped backward in shock. They immediately dropped their guns and held their hands up. Virtually everyone in the room did that save for the two men sitting at the central console.
“Last chance assholes, hands up,” one of the Marines barked.
“This is a…” the presumed leader said from his seat.
John wasted no time and fired a single round from his rifle. It was a through and through, though thankfully there wasn’t anyone else behind the man taken out as collateral damage. The man that was standing to the side of his boss looked at John, then at the console, and back at John.
“Flinch and you're dead,” John growled.
“Everyone back the fuck away from your stations,” another Marine said as he walked along the outer edge of the room to John’s left.
The second in command tensed up. John reacted almost instantaneously to the man’s action. Whether he was or wasn’t going to do something didn’t matter. In that moment the presumption was he was going to do something bad. John fired off another round. He fell backward, gasping on the ground for a few moments before his life gave out.
John walked over to the console. The self-destruction screen had been pulled up but had not yet been activated. He hovered his hand near an input port. Eve then directed the suit to connect its external cable from John’s wrist to the port.
“Eve, lock out the pirates from their systems and share with our friendlies the locations of all hostiles,” John said calmly.
“Understood,” Eve said as she was already well underway in taking control of the station.
“This Falchion Leader to all teams, the central command is ours. Tactical readouts are to be shared momentarily. Continue with mop-up operations.”
“Sir, the room is secured. All weapons have been taken from the prisoners,” the sergeant of the squad of marines said.
“Excellent,” John said as he carefully removed his helmet, “Now then, who’s going to spill the beans on what y’all are planning and doing?”
“Why should we talk to you?” one of the guards answered.
“Your choice is talking to me instead of Naval Intelligence. I’m a whole lot friendlier to deal with.”
“I doubt that you just merced both our bosses,” another pirate said.
“True, but I ain’t going to make you suffer. I at least have the decency to put you down in one shot.”
“Some comfort that is,” an older-looking man from the rear of the group said, “I’ll take my chances.”
“What can you offer me?” the youngest-looking member of the gaggle of pirates said.
“Don’t you dare tell them anything Tiffany!” huffed another one.
John made a couple of gestures to the Marines. All of the pirates were ushered into a conference room. Two of the Marines watched over them. Tiffany, the traitor pirate, looked confident standing in front of John. Perhaps too confident for John’s taste.
Her corroboration of events wasn’t actually needed. John looked at his wrist and noticed that Eve already pulled highly detailed information on the pirates’ activities. But if there was an opportunity, she really was looking for leniency, John wouldn’t overlook free intel.
“Speak, now,” John said as he loomed large over the young girl.
“This is merely a waystation. We acquire goods and ammunition for pirate vessels. We aren’t…”
“Spare me that bullshit. This isn’t just a waystation. This is home to three different pirate factions,” John hissed, “That’s your first strike. You won’t get another one.”
The young girl took a small step back. Her confidence had left her. In place of that was pure terror. She didn’t know what to do or say anymore. Her eyes darted around the room, in fact the room felt considerably smaller than it had just moments before.
“What do you want to know?” she said as she looked at the floor in shame.
“The truth,” John said before leaning down to get closer to her, “The whole truth.”
“The Alpha and Omega, Pirate Brothers, and the Void Sovereign groups used this as their base. There was an uneasy alliance between the three. None were big enough to take out all their rivals, so an odd partnership formed here.”
John turned and walked near a console, “All of this is known to me.”
“They also made this a port of call of sorts for other pirates. They were charged an arm and a leg, but it brought a steady stream of money and recruits in. When the Confederacy announced their anti-pirate actions, they shut the station down cold and we all left to parts unknown,” the girl continued to stare at the floor, “That was until the hunting appeared to have ceased. We returned and reclaimed our base. At that point, a decision was made to be less boisterous about our base.”
The girl took a deep breath before speaking again, “The Icarus came to visit. She was in rough shape. They called in favors from all three groups and began retrofitting the ship here. My group had to deal with them in the past, and some sizable debts incurred to the Icarus.”
“This is the base that retrofitted the Icarus?”
“It is, yes,” the girl said, “We acquired a retrofitting dock several years ago. We’ve done a fair amount of business using it.”
“Where are the records of this retrofit?” John asked sternly, “I presume you kept detailed records of their upgrade.”
“It should be on our mainframe, or it could be partitioned off into some secret storage. They clearly didn’t want any records of what was being done to the ship kept anywhere.”
John grinned as he turned to face the young girl, “A request your leaders clearly and flagrantly disobeyed.”
She nodded.
“Who knows where that information is?” John said as he looked at his wrist’s holographic outputs.
Eve was listening to the conversation and was already searching for the hidden data. If this story was true and a copy of it was saved it could be an amazing coup of data intelligence. That is if it were true. But the dejected look of the young girl suggested to John that she was telling the truth.
“Jamis. He’s the tall black guy with the grey beard.”
“Corporal, take her to a more secure place away from the rest of her ilk. I’ll decide what to do with her later.”
“You said…”
John raised a finger to shush her, “I promised nothing. You tried to offer me false intelligence. You and I are far from done speaking.”
“Private, bring Jamis from that room, we need to have a conversation.”
The corporal saluted John and walked over to the room. The door on the room’s right side opened. In walked another squad of marines. Their sergeant was leading the way.
“Sergeant Decker, how goes containment?”
“Fighting is contained to a single sector. The pirates there have chosen death over life. We should be completed with the operation within the hour.”
“Excellent. Begin transporting the prisoners to the ships immediately. None of the adults, irrespective of their age, are to be included with the women and children.”
“Sir, even the eighteen-year-olds? There’s a number of them…”
“Include them with the rest of the men. The courts can settle the matter of their punishment or guilt.”
“Understood,” Sergeant Decker saluted John and turned around.
“Jamis, I hear y’all had an interesting guest a while back,” John said to the tall man being held firmly in place by two marines in power armor.
“What do I get out of helping you? And what assurances do I have that you’ll hold your end of the bargain?”
“Clever strategy,” John grinned as he had Eve activate the communication systems, “Hey Mark, how’s life?”
Mark Wilhelm, John’s one-time boss at Naval Intelligence’s Miami Base appeared on screen, “What can I do for you?”
“What criminal history does a Jamis Miles, one-time Alpha Centauri citizen and current pirate affiliated with the Void Sovereign group, have?”
Mark looked down at his console. He then split the communication screen in two. Jamis’ profile appeared on the right side of the screen. A litany of crimes he had committed began to be displayed on the screen. About a third of them he had served his time successfully for but there were some pretty serious charges on the list that had not been adjudicated yet.
“Seems your bargaining position is a bit dubious. There are at least five charges that we can put you away for life,” John said.
“Thirteen actually given his age,” Mark added in his normal monotone way.
“I need a deal and assurances that you will follow through with it,” Jamis hissed back.
“What kind of deal would NI offer?” John asked.
“What are we getting in return?” Mark quipped, “You kind of brought me in mid-conversation as you normally do.”
“Ahh, that’s my bad. Supposedly detailed information on the Icarus’ most recent refit.”
Mark nodded and looked deep in thought. Jamis looked at both men’s emotionless exteriors and didn’t know what to expect. As the silence continued, the more worried and agitated, he grew. He didn’t feel comfortable in his bargaining position. More than that, he trusted none of these men at all. Especially the man in the large suit of armor. There was a callous viciousness underlying his actions that rubbed Jamis the wrong way.
“It’ll depend on…” Mark began to speak but was quickly interrupted.
“No, I get assurances on a deal before I say one goddamned thing.”
“The clock is ticking Jamis. My VI is searching for all known servers and data feeds. If I find it before you do there won’t be a deal,” John said as he turned to face a pair of Marines in the room, “On that note. Corporal, go to this man’s quarters on the station. Flip the place apart, I want every square millimeter scanned and checked for any hidden compartments.”
“Yes sir,” the corporal quickly saluted John.
He and another Marine quickly left the room. John turned to look at Jamis. He loomed large over the man.
“Tick-tock, Jamis.”
“I won’t quite be the antagonistic asshole my former associate is, but ultimately the deal we make with you is going to depend on what you have. What we glean from it is ultimately going to determine the degree of leniency you receive.”
“I want the deal in writing.”
“Which you’ll get, but you are going to have to give me something to work with so I can propose a deal. I won’t be offering any deals, and my superiors certainly won’t sign off on anything, without you telling me what intel you have. Once we receive it and it checks out to what you tell me now, then we can affirm the proposal.”
Jamis shook his head. He wanted more. So much more in fact. But he was not in a position of power. He had some leverage but not much. The concern he had was what could he bargain.
“I want to walk.”
“Not happening,” Mark replied instantly, “That’s not realistic given your checkered past. Were it not for these serious charges I could consider it. But your history warrants a prison sentence.”
“Minimum security, no hard labor. Ideally on the frontier,” Jamis said.
“If you provide us sufficiently detailed information on the Icarus, I’ll remove hard labor from your location. And super-max facilities. We will not offer more than that.”
“Five-year sentence. I want a chance to get out before I’m old and crippled,” Jamis said.
“Minimum fifteen-year sentence, with a parole hearing guaranteed after year five. NI will recommend parole at that time provided the data checks out and you have received appropriate good credit during your stay with us.”
“Three years till the hearing.”
“Five. But I’m going to defer the charging of several of the more egregious ones. If you get out and fall back into your pirate ways we’ll throw the book at you,” Mark stared down the pirate, “No matter how old you may be.”
“Make it five years on parole with a caveat that the remaining charges are expunged permanently, and I’ll agree.”
John smiled. This attack would provoke a response from the pirates. Instead of waiting, like they presumed they’d do, the Navy attacked immediately. Worse, the pirates lost an important staging ground for their attacks. And thousands of prisoners and family members were taken. This would no doubt anger the pirates, but it would also attack the morale of their fleet too.
By the end of the day, everyone would be transferred off the station. A substantial amount of stolen goods was reacquired by the Navy and shipped away to a nearby station. Farther eroding the pirates’ capabilities to wage war.
The last thing John did before they left the system, they detonated several warheads they brought over from the transports within the station. One more station was forever taken from the pirates. If they were lucky, they’d find out exactly what systems the Icarus was upgraded with. With that knowledge, they could develop an attack plan to precisely defeat the Icarus. Now they needed a bit of luck to draw that accursed ship out and engage it in a proper battle.

First Previous
Memory Transcription Subject: Tresn, Arxur Defector
Date [Standard Human Reckoning]: 2136-10-22
After the encounter with the disdainful zurulian, Elangkasa led me to another section of the medical complex. We navigated through the makeshift path until we arrived at a building. The painted sign marked this as "Recovery Center".
Inside I found a hive of movement and noise. Humans filled the space and engaged in different activities meant to acclimate them to their prosthetic limbs. Sounds of encouragement and determination echoed in the room. A unique mix of scents filled the air, warm metal, the clinical smell of antiseptic, and the underlying current of human sweat.
One side of the room housed various forms of mobility training. Here, individuals learned to walk again, their new legs carrying them across varieties of terrains from flat platforms to uneven rocky surfaces, all designed to mimic real-world conditions. The patients stumbled, recovered, and started to find their footing.
In a separate section, people sat around tables with an array of tactile puzzles and dexterity tools strewn around. Their faces scrunched in concentration, brows furrowed and lips pursed as they manipulated small objects or practiced precise movements with their acquired hands. The mechanical digits moved with a jerky grace but grew more fluid with each passing moment. A chorus of patient encouragement followed the quiet clinks and clatters of dropped objects.
A human figure clad in the typical uniform of the facility came toward us. An intricate headgear on their head concealed their mane.
"Ah, is this the arxur?" My translator assigned her feminine voice. "Hi, I'm Ida."
"Hi Ida," Elangkasa shared a formal nod with the other human. "This is Tresn."
"Thanks, Coordinator," Ida responded with another nod. "I can handle it from here."
After a quick farewell, Elangkasa left me in the capable hands of Ida. I looked around the bustling hall, my gaze sweeping over the flurry of activity.
"So... this is where you train people to adapt to their new limbs?"
"Yeah. Do you have your prosthesis?" Ida inquired, her voice carrying a professional tone laced with underlying warmth.
"Sure," I responded, reaching for the bag slung over the back of my wheelchair. From its depths, I extracted the mechanical feet.
"Hmm, interesting. This doesn't resemble an arxur foot at all," Ida observed, her dark eyebrows arching as she scrutinized the unconventional prosthetic.
"Indeed, I drew inspiration from your planet's creatures," I replied, a hint of pride slipping into my tone. "You have a species related to your kind, yes? I believe they're referred to as monkeys?"
"I see..." Ida murmured, a thoughtful expression wrinkling her forehead. I felt a slight apprehension in her voice. "But can you control such a thing?"
"Watch this!" Excitement coursed through me as I manipulated the intricate prosthetic. With a flex of my thoughts, the prosthetic responded, the claws moving with surprising fluidity, much like an additional set of hand paws.
"Excellent!" Ida exclaimed, her face lighting up in a wide smile. She clapped her hands together.
With practiced ease, the human-assisted me in attaching the prostheses. She produced a sturdy belt, custom-made to secure the prostheses and ensure they stayed attached. As the weight of my body pressed onto the artificial limbs, I felt a dull throbbing at the ends of my stumps. The sensation felt odd, not quite pain, but rather, a constant reminder of the foreign appendages now attached to my body.
For starters, I had a simple exercise, designed to introduce my body to a new way of movement. I had to walk between two parallel bars. My arms took some of the weight as I grabbed the bar and attempted to maneuver my prosthetic feet. I tried to replicate my usual gait, letting the claws on my new limbs ripple and flex in what I hoped was a natural manner.
However, it became apparent that just manipulating the claws of my prostheses didn't suffice. I needed to master the motion of bending the wrist and ankle analogs, a detail I hadn't considered before. My first steps came out as awkward and clumsy, a far cry from the graceful movements I had imagined.
Our rehabilitation session continued until a sharp, persistent ache at the base of my stumps signaling me to stop. Back in my wheelchair again, I maneuvered my way to the comfort of my assigned habitation unit. With my friends engrossed in their volunteer duties, I only had myself. The silence in the room reminded me back when I had to stay hidden in the camp. In those quiet moments, my thoughts strayed to my predicament, wishing for a rapid recovery that would free me from my solitude and allow me to stand beside my companions, contributing to helping humans.
Amid my reflection, my mind wandered back to a previous interaction with a human acquaintance named Jagomerah. I remembered his offer to meet up if I ever found myself in Purwakarta, prompting me to revisit our old messages on social media.
"Hi there, Jagomerah," I initiated the conversation, my fingers tapping out the words on the screen. "I've made it to Purwakarta, Sector Twelve to be precise."
He sent a swift and enthusiastic response, "No way! Alright, meet me at Sector Ten's plaza at 16:00 then."
"Looking forward to it," I typed back, a flicker of anticipation sparking within me.
As the time neared the fifteenth hour, my human friends returned, their faces flush with the day's exertion. To pass the time while waiting for our remaining companions, we played a game of human cards.
Bolad and Vani appeared a half-hour later, their arrival completing our little circle. With everyone present, I proposed an expedition to Sector Ten and I was met with eager nods and enthusiastic agreement. Thus, our band of six ventured, weaving through the intricate maze of sectors within the camp. I met several arxur on my way, always giving me a look of disapproval. Upon reaching the bustling plaza of Sector Ten, I shot a quick message to Jagomerah, notifying him of our arrival. It didn't take long for our gaze to meet each other.
To my surprise, Snop already knew this Jagomerah person. She referred to him as a "scalie", an apparent misnomer given the absence of any discernible scales on his skin.
A sharp voice cut off our introduction. "Have you no shame?" The words came from the female arxur who had been standing behind Jagomerah. Her eyes glared at me with a chilling reproof. "Wasting resources like this, when others are clinging to life."
Jagomerah, the human with a mane of untamed curls, turned back to meet Lovaz's scathing gaze. "What are you talking about?" he asked. His voice was a gruff contrast to her icy disdain.
With an indignant huff, Lovaz gestured at me, her clawed hand sweeping in my direction. "Look at him! He's nothing more than a drain on society now."
"Lovaz," Jagomerah said in a stern voice. The curly-maned human squared his shoulders and met the arxur's gaze with unwavering defiance. "What do you do to an injured arxur?"
"We do nothing." She snapped, her tail lashing with irritation. "It is the responsibility of the impaired to stop being a burden to our society."
"In human society, it's the responsibility of the society to care for the impaired," Jagomerah retorted, his dark eyes never leaving Lovaz's.
"This weakness," Lovaz spat out the word with such venom, "is why all this happened to you, human."
Jagomerah's gaze hardened. With a swift movement of his left arm, he pulled his armband aside, revealing a metallic ring. His fingers moved over the surface of his arm, found a hidden latch, and with a quick twist, the arm detached. The purpose of his armband became clear to me in that instant. The fabric covered the prosthetic limb's attachment point.
"See this?" Jagomerah held up his detached arm. "This hand can crush your windpipe. Not so weak now, huh?"
Modern arxurs only understood the language of strength and violence. From what I had learned about humans, a display like Jagomerah's could escalate into a fight. Yet the arxur woman just chuckled, her sharp teeth gleaming in a predatory grin. "Okay… I see your point."
"Hey...Tresn wasn't it?" Jagomerah said, his voice had a note of regret in it. I inclined my head in response. "I must apologize for my earlier suspicion."
I looked at his arm, or rather, the empty space where they should have been. "So...uh, what happened to your arm?"
"Well, see, I'm a firefighter," Jagomerah began, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of long-held sadness. The metal arm detached from his body was held in his remaining hand. "When you're fighting a beast of fire, sometimes it bites back. Burning debris can fall, and sometimes it traps someone whose means of escape is for his comrade to make a tough call because the fire is spreading."
As Jagomerah talked, his fingers worked on his mechanical limb. The sight fascinated me, the gleaming metallic end, the intricate design, and the way the parts clicked into place with a satisfying sound. Each movement reflected countless repetitions and a depth of familiarity that looked almost second nature.
His gaze turned to me, a question hanging in the air between us. "What about you? How did it happen?"
"Grenade," I replied, the single word packed with echoes of a past I wasn't quite ready to delve into.
"My shift has started, but I have time before I have to go to Greater Jakarta for the next twenty hours. Maybe I can show you around?"
I looked at Lovaz's whose hard gaze still didn't escape me. I met her glare with a smile, feeling a touch of defiance rise in me.
"Why do you care so much about this defective one?" Lovaz spat.
Jagomerah shrugged "He seemed nice. You don't have to come along with me. Just…reconvene at the meeting point at 18:45"
The tension between us hung palpably in the air as Lovaz lingered, shooting one last look of contempt my way before she walked away, her tail slapped against Jagomerah's leg.
"Well… that was something," Johan murmured. "The arxurs aren't one for much for socialization, are they?"
Feeling an odd kinship with the human, I decided to explain, "The only necessary relationship in the Dominion is between you and the State. Some arxurs would take a mate, but it's always in the service of the State. A mate could keep an eye on you in the field and administer first aid if needed."
"If you have a mate," Vani began. "what would he do if the incident with the farsul happened?"
I looked down at my lap, my scales catching the low light. "He would leave me to die." My voice sounded heavy with a bitter truth.
Everyone fell silent for a moment.
"Let's not dawdle," Jagomerah interrupted, shifting the atmosphere with a few words. "Follow me."
As we moved, I found myself questioning the cyborg. "What are you doing here?"
Jagomerah stopped, turning back to me. "Wait... you do have the concept of disaster relief... right?"
I blinked, my mind racing. "Uh... the closest thing we have is asset recovery," I said, embarrassed. "Your description on social media says you fight the fire, right? Do you put out conflagration?"
"That's right," he walked away again, his mechanical limb gesturing for us to continue following him.
As we moved, Jagomerah began to explain his role. It went beyond just putting out raging fires but it also involved pulling out survivors or bodies, clearing away the debris, and ensuring the remaining structures had enough integrity for rebuilding to commence. Their dedicated work created the foundation on which the rest of the humans could begin reconstructing the city.
After navigating the winding alleys of Sector Ten, we arrived at a prefabricated building near a wide road that allowed for the movement of large vehicles. Indeed, several huge vehicles bordered the building. Jagomerah led us through one of the gates in the building into a cavernous room. Inside, we saw a massive vehicle with dimensions larger than Johan's already big van. Humans moved around it in coordinated chaos, packing the vehicle with an assortment of tools and supplies.
All sorts of rescue gear adorned the walls. Some of them looked familiar to me, hoses coiled, axes with their blades shining under the overhead lights, ladders arranged according to size, and sledgehammers. There were also some that looked more complicated, from the design, I guessed that it uses hydraulics to help prop something or force something to open.
Lockers, each personalized with a human name, added a touch of individuality to the otherwise functional room. The heavy scent of rubber and metal hung in the air. Dominating the far end of the room, a large digital display showcased a detailed map of Greater Jakarta. The multitude of markings and notes told a silent story of planning, strategic thinking, and past operations.
A human woman approached Jagomerah, her greeting a bark, "Hey, Agni!"
Agni? Perhaps that was his other name, just like Snop was also known as Kirani. I found myself a little puzzled, having to familiarize myself with the concept of people using multiple names for everyday social life, not for espionage.
The human's skin was a deeper shade of brown, her hair coiled and secured into a neat bun. Her gaze turned to me, her eyes widening in surprise. "Whoa… what happened to that guy?"
"Grenade," Jagomerah replied, the single-word explanation heavy with unspoken stories.
Her eyes narrowed, "You're not replacing Lovaz with them, are you?"
"No," he assured her, his tone calm and clear. "Lovaz should arrive after breaking the fast. I'm taking this arxur and his friend here to look around."
We introduced ourselves with Johan kicking off the process. When my turn arrived, I said to myself with a touch of embarrassment, "My name is Tresn, right now… I'm not able to contribute."
A man, his face marked by burn scars that halted the growth of facial fur, chimed in, "Of course, you can't. No one in the right mind would ask you to work. Focus on your healing first."
Jagomerah then guided us through the process of their preparation. He explained what each item in the stacks of supplies was for. Besides the collection of essentials like food and water, and medical kits it also featured an impressive array of construction tools. I watched as teams worked together, loading supplies into vehicles, and checking and double-checking their lists. I saw clusters of team members in huddled discussions, their focus on tablets displaying complex documents. I watched them practice procedures, going through the motions of first aid, victim search, debris clearing, and evacuation protocols.
At one point Jagomerah introduced us to one of the drones that would help them. It looked like a human if a human was made out of blocks. The drone excited Johan and Cynthio and the two humans began interrogating the machine.
The buzz of activity that had characterized this place began to fade as the time for meal approached. People moved away from their tasks, converging towards the dining halls, the scent of food replacing the scent of rubber and metal.
Jagomerah and his team brought me towards the carnivore dining hall, a part of the camp designed to accommodate species with diets like us. My roommates, meanwhile, wandered off towards the herbivore hall. There were many arxurs present, and though I could feel their glances on my scarred form, none approached me.
The dining area was divided into two queues. One led to a spread of raw meat where the arxurs could pile their trays high with a selection of proteins. The second queue catered to a more human palate, featuring cooked dishes.
When I joined the line for the human food, Jagomerah looked at me in surprise. But he nodded in approval after I explained that I prefer cooked meat now. He told me that the dish for the night was Rawon, a delicious black soup cooked with a special kind of plant that contains hydrogen cyanide.
"Wait...what?"
"Yeah, but the plant has been processed to remove that toxin away. See... this is why we process food and cook them." He looked at the line of arxurs helping themselves to the blocks of meat. "I can't imagine eating them, so chewy and bland, even our raw meat dishes have seasoning in them."
That remark intrigued me. "Wait, you have raw meat dishes too?"
"Sure, we have-"
"Next!" The human server shouted. Our discussion had made a large gap between us and the last human.
"Okay, let's get this rawon first."
I noticed that the humans also have white plant matter called 'rice' to go with the rawon. For me, I would have just the soup, rich, aromatic, and packed with chunks of meat. To my delight, the meal also came with boiled eggs. Settling down with humans felt different from the stern, disapproving arxur tables back at the fleet. Here, Jagomerah and his team shared jokes, stories, and smiles as we ate. As we tucked into our meals, I shared my own tale, the official version of my crash landing.
Jagomerah listened, his gaze serious. When I finished, he took a moment before speaking. "When Lovaz says… I'm sorry… 'defective'… she's referring to more than just your physical condition, right?" He paused, recalling our earlier conversation. "You said the same to me when we chatted."
"Yeah... us Arxurs aren't supposed to be like... this." I gestured towards myself.
"I'm glad that you're like this," Jagomerah patted my shoulder. I didn't think he said that in pity, but rather understanding, and acceptance.
A soft chiming sound echoed from his wrist, drawing our attention. Jagomerah glanced down at the device strapped around his wrist, his eyes scanning over the display.
"Ah, duty calls," he sighed. I could feel a certain heaviness in his tone. "Our mission is about to start and we'll be in Greater Jakarta for the next twenty-four hours."
"Do what you need, human," I responded, a hint of a smile on my face.
"But feel free to message me, okay?" He proposed. Giving me a chance for us to continue our discussion. Perhaps it could lead to something more, I hoped.
After saying our goodbyes, I watched Jagomerah and his team depart. The herbivore dining didn't expect an Arxur like me and it would cause problems if I popped up there. Instead, I decided to wait in the plaza. I found a quiet corner and parked myself, my mind wandering back to Jagomerah and his team. The brief time I'd spent with them passed, unlike anything I'd experienced before. I felt a sense of acceptance and togetherness that felt...right.
For the first time, I felt like I belonged.

Hey,
I’m new to this three so if this issue is mentioned elsewhere I’d appreciate someone to tag me in it or direct me to it.
I am on Montelukast (Singulair) and Arnuity Ellipta (an ICS) and have been for about 2 years now. I also have a heart condition called sinus tachycardia (basically, a fast heartbeat) that I am on medication for.
Anyways, the past 2 nights when I go to bed I suddenly find it very difficult to breathe, like I can’t get a full breathe, so I use one puff of my albuterol inhaler and it mostly makes it better (enough for me to sleep). When I woke up yesterday after using the inhaler my entire rib cage, chest area (front and back) was almost sore. And then today the same thing, but on in the right side of my chest and in the front (like under my breast).
Does anyone else have this happen after a night with asthma issues? I’ve had this happen before both after using albuterol, and nights where asthma gave me issues and I realized I had forgotten the ICS inhaler.

Sleep number flex 2 base

Digital Nomad

Girls sports putting crimp on gym facilities

BOHIC4 is recruiting!!

BOHIC4 is recruiting!!

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