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)