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)