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)