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)