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)