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)