Crichton continued his furious sketching, his brow furrowed as he concentrated. And then, he stopped.
Before the group now stood Aeryn, Dargo and Pilot. Dargo stood proud, primitive, a warrior born of a barbaric, yet honorable race. Tatoos marked arcane cultural references on his tall, well-muscled frame.
Pilot looked lost, confused, almost childlike. He had the appearance of one abandoned. A small pack of belongings were the only thing on him that could possibly tie him anywhere else.
And then, there was Aeryn Sun. Dressed in black leather armor, angled and fierce, yet stylish, with a touch of feminine, her dark eyes gazed forth, her jaw held resolute. One hand was on the hilt of a sword, the other was holding the reigns of the large black dragon sitting next to her.
"Wow," Chianna breathed. She reached out, as if to touch the D'argo image.
"Hmph. You granted D'argo more nobility than he deserved," Rigel sniffed.
"It's just a cartoon, your Highness," Crichton muttered. "One thing's missing..."
He began drawing again. And then, the light in the room started dimming. Chianna and Rigel looked around in confusion. Chianna then tapped Chrichton on the shoulder.
"What the..?"
Chrichton tapped his com-link, "Pilot, what's going on out there? Aeryn? D'argo? Geez, is anyone awake out there?"
The trio looked at each other in concern. Crichton made to stand in the dimming light, "I'm going to find out what the hell's going on..."
Suddenly, a glow appeared around the last drawing he was making.
A familiar voice pleaded, "FINISH..."