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)