As I entered the bar, an attack of neon strobe lights assaulted my eyes. Smugglers, criminals, androids, and people from all Reaches of this system came here to the Nova club to watch the dancers. I sat at one of the tables closet to stage. Enjoying the show, I looked around to see who else was having the time of their life. I saw a woman with hair as crazy and as colorful as the city skyline. Tattoos of neon design ran up and down her arms. I saw to my left and man with a synthetic arm and piercings all over his face nodding his head to the club music while tinkering with his robotic limb. The music died down and things got quiet. I became confused wondering what happens next. The song resumed, as the beat dropped, the ceiling opened up and dancers floated down swinging on levitating poles flaying their colorful ribbons while descending to the stage. The club went into an uproar of satisfaction and entertained screaming. I soon found myself doing the same and I became part of the clubbing experience. This was the feeling of the century.

-Terrence Sampson -