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)