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)