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)