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)