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)