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)