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)