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)