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)