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)