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)