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)