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)