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)