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)