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)