#I didn't put maquis cause is that a job?

[lonelymoonrambles]

I always wonder what I'd do if I was in the Star Trek universe.

I think I'd be an Outpost Scientist researching mysterious biology... Writing a paper about sentient soil, or studying a forest on some random planet for 10 years sounds nice. (*ahem* keeping secrets from starfleet about the true nature of the planet) 😌

So what would you do? And please specify in the tags/comments if you have thoughts on this, I'm so curious!

[useless-catalanfacts]

Florenci Pla Meseguer "La Pastora", intersex antifascist hero

One of the most famous maquis (guerrilla fighters against Franco's dictatorship) is Florenci Pla Maseguer.

(thank you @neonbutchery for the suggestion)

He was born in a farmhouse in Vallibona, in the rural mountains in north of the Valencian Country, in 1917. His body did not fit the categories of either male nor female, so his family were left with the choice of what sex to register him as. His parents decided to register him as female so that he could avoid the mandatory military service.

He grew up in the farmhouse being a shepherd, and never went to school as was usual at the time for the rural working class. When he reached puberty, he developed male secondary sex characteristics.

When the fascists did a coup d'état in 1936, sparking the Spanish Civil War, he wanted offered himself as a volunteer to fight in the republican (=antifascist) army, and he thought that this way he would get officially registered as a man, but couldn't.

He kept dressing as a woman until he was 30 years old, but always felt a man. In his words (originally in Catalan in this interview in El Temps from 1988):

Interviewer: What did you think of your sexual condition? Did it cause you any worries?

Florenci: Problems...? Mainly because of the beard. They said I was half man and half woman, but I never felt a woman. I still remember the first time I dreamed I had an affair with a woman, when I was 13 (...)

I: Have you always felt a man?

F: Always, and I have always liked men's jobs and being registered as a man. In fact, when I walked the flock I carried a sarró [=a kind of bag], like men, and not a basket like women.

He kept wearing women's clothes until he was 30, when he joined the maquis. By then, it was 1947; the fascists had won the war in 1939 and, as a result, Spain and its occupied territories were ruled by Franco's fascist dictatorship, which persecuted the political dissidence, the national minorities (such as Catalans-Valencians) and their languages, and everyone who didn't fit the strict normative and nationalcatholic morale, prominently LGBTQI+ people and women who didn't limit themselves to the roles that the patriarchal society considered fit. The maquis were the armed resistance.

I: How did you change the flock for the maquis?

F: Since I lived in the mountains, I had sometimes talked to them. On a snowy night, three maquis took refuge in a house that was only inhabited in summer -El Cabanil- but one of them ran away -one who was from Morella- and everywhere he went, he spread the word, he snitched it. And the Civil Guard [=the regime's military police] followed their clue until they found them and burned the house down, because they were resisting. The next morning, they arrested El Cabanil's owner and I got nervous because I worked for him, and I decided to escape out of fear of being killed.

I: Was it because of the fear of reprisals or for the humiliations to which the Civil Guard put you through?

F: Yes, that determined it, too. That was on the morning of the same day they burned down El Cabanil, and it was "teniente Mangas" [="lieutenant" Mangas, which he says in Spanish], six guards and two militiamen, one from Torremiró and the other one from Herbesset.

I: And what did they do to you exactly?

F: They were curious to know how could a shepherd girl be half man and half woman. I had sold thrushes to the militiamen, and they told the Civil Guard about my anomaly. Teniente Mangas ignored all rules and made me take off my clothes, until their curiosity was fulfilled. And when they were done, they said "bueno, a hacer bondad" ["well, behave" in Spanish, as a way to say goodbye]. And I felt so much rage, so much helplessness. (...) I joined [the guerrilla] and I dressed as a man. There, I was a man like any other.

From then on, he lived as a man and named himself Florenci, though he was known with other nicknames like "Durruti" (after the famous anarchist leader) and, most famously "La Pastora" (the shepherd).

He ended up living in Andorra, but a journalist for the Spanish tabloid El Caso published about him, attributing to him the crimes committed by other maquis, even ones that he had never met. For this reason, La Pastora became famous in all of Spain and the police intensified the search. The Andorran police turned him in to the Spanish police in 1960, accusing him of robbery, banditry and terrorism. He was judged twice for the same crimes: a tribunal sentenced him to 40 years of prison and the other one sentenced him to death and later changed it to 30 years of prison.

He spent 17 years in prison. First, in a women's prison where the women (and him) had to wear very tight miniskirts. He was later moved to a men's jail, where the case was further investigated. The detective saw that there was no proof and that the story didn't match up, so it was impossible that Florenci had committed these crimes. He was freed with a pardon in 1977 and the detective officially registered him as a man.

Despite the slander published by the press, when he came back to his hometown Vallibona, everyone came down to the village from their farmhouses to greet him. He died in 2004, at 86 years old.

Nowadays, Florenci "La Pastora" is by far one of the most famous maquis, if not the single most famous one. He is talked about in songs, books and documentaries, and has become an icon of the antifascist resistance.

[wcrpbubble]

well, that didn't go as expected. - chakotay @ janeway

out of all the things that have gone 'not as expected' in the delta quadrant - this is what's blindsided her the most. perhaps it shouldn't have, but it's certainly a sharp slap in the face to the past seven or so years. standing at one of the windows of her ready room, kathryn stares at a blessed sight - earth, it's vibrant blue beauty having very much been missed. she can see small pinpoints around, ships moving in and out of orbit or waiting for clearance to enter space dock. it's a flurry of activity, half caused by their return and half business as usual in the sol system.

starfleet has barely let her process the fact that they're home.

"i knew there'd be testimony - but i was hoping they'd be willing to be a bit damned flexible." she mutters, folding her arms across her chest. a court martial, issued to her - starfleet has been combing her logs from the past seven years before they'll be allowed to land.

there are teams on board already going through ship, the modifications that have kept them alive the past few years. she already knows it'll be dismantled when they finally get clearance to land - which won't be for another few days at least, she estimates. starfleet is being cautious and it's at a boiling point. people on voyager want to see their families beyond the screen of a video message. they're all antsy to be back on earth - kathryn included, though now she suddenly feels like she ought to dread it.

"i'll just be honest." she continues, gesturing vaguely at the air. "the decisions i made were for our survival, that's all. are there things i shouldn't have done? yes. a great many things. but i won't regret them. not when it's led us here." she grabs her empty mug of coffee and crosses to the replicator to refill it (holy hell will it be a blessing to have actual, real coffee again).

she massages her temple in anticipation of a beaurocracy headache. it's probably a formality, give her a chance to explain some of the more complicated logs - especially around the borg, she assumes. but kathryn has never quite liked this side of starfleet.

"you - the former maquis, they'll probably drag my ass across the carpet for it, but i don't want you or be'lanna or any of the others to worry. i'll defend you just as i have in my logs." besides, how can admiral paris put the mother of his new grandchild in a penal colony? and how can starfleet neglect the contributions chakotay and the others have made to their survival? voyager never would have made it. frankly starfleet should be bowing down and licking their boots.

"i'm telling you, as a friend." kathryn adds after another moment, lifting her head to him. "don't tell the others - they'll only worry. they deserve to enjoy the celebrations, to look forward to the homecoming. not worry they're about to lose their jobs and ranks and thrown in a jail cell."

she doesn't expect starfleet to do much - after all, voyager has done the unthinkable and it's crew are an asset. if starfleet does even so much as consider demoting them for actions taken when they were fighting for survival - well, she imagines the press and the thousands of others heralding their return will put up one mighty stink. and kathryn is willing to let them.

"now we just have to wait for them to decide the pomp and circumstance and i'm sure they'll put on a good face, throw some insane party and we'll have to pretend we're absolutely delighted to go." she mutters, rolling her eyes as she lifts her mug to her lips. "before reality comes crashing down around our ears." kathryn murmurs, quieter. her fingers curl around the warm mug of coffee, lips pulling into a soft frown. "as much as i've looked forward to this day - it's going to feel strange. not waking up to the hum of the ship. not seeing everyone all the time. i love this team with everything in me and faced with the fact that it's over . . . i already miss it."

@stcrdate