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)