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)