Fem Barracks: 18:30 tines
Margaret Mary O’Neil was fussing over her dress. She was thirty-six years old and this was her first dance. Meg, as her mother used to call her, didn’t have much in common with the other fems she met on the ship. They had lives they lived; they’d experienced dates and dances. She, on the other hand, had cared for her abusive, drunken father and never had anything of her own. Sarran was heaven to Margaret Mary.
I can’t believe this place exists…a place where women receive respect from the men around them instead of verbal abuse and a cuff on the ear. Every man, oops, Warrior, I meet is unfailingly polite even when I ask stupid questions.
Meg always wanted to be a dress designer but on Earth her father forbade her to go to school. She took in washing and mending,
