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)