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)