DARK     NIGHT,BRIGHT  LIGHT.  LITTLE 
 SOOT-CAT HIDING FROM  THE  ION  PLUME. 
                          
 A  GRUNGYTEENAGER,WITH  SOOT   SMEARED 
 ACROSSHER  EYES,  UNDER THE SHADOW   
 OF WHAT  THEY   CALL   THESPACESHIP. 
                                 
 A  SECRET ORDINANCE  AIMED  AT  THE SKY, 
 FUEL  STILL BEING  SYNTHESIZED  OFFSITE. 
 SHE'S      A    SENTINEL.         
 SHE  THINKS:    SOON   WE  WILL  CREATE 
 CAVITIES   WITHIN  THE   SATELLITE. 
                                    
 THE  SPACESHIP MORPHS  EVER  SO  SLOWLY, 
 CASTING AND RECASTING SHADOWS AS  BIG AS 
 ENTIRE  DISTRICTS.  BUT  CURRENTLY,  SHE 
 WOULD  BE IN THE OPEN, IF NOT FOR HIDING 
 IN A   HOLLOWED   OUT  DELIVERY TRUCK. 
                                          
 SPACESHIP  HOVERING,  ION  EXHAUST,   
 SPORE      EXHAUST,   AN   OTHERWORLDLY 
 SNOWSTORM OF  ALIEN  DANDRUFF  (AND  THE 
 AIR   PERPETUALLY   COMPROMISED,  MAKING 
 THEM  BREATHE  IN  ALL  SORTS  OF   NICE 
 THINGS   LEADING   TO   ALL   SORTS   OF 
 REASONABLE                       STATES)