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)