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)