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)