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)