Author's Note: So I've been writing fanfiction for a while, and I am honored that I have such devoted readers. (THE BEST!) Whenever I feel stalled or have writer's block, I inevitably receive a message from one of you, and I feel inspired again. So this short story is a gift from me. I never thought I would write it, but I have received so many requests to describe how the "family" first met that I finally decided to bite the bullet. I dedicate this story to all of you - Sally On, Emie Mac, bknbu, FroofyB, Mer3Girl, Pinky Starflower, and of course, my Lovey, Wade Wells!
I want to point out that the stories I write are an amalgamation of almost everything in the Voltron Universe: DotU/GoLion, VV/Dairugger, Voltron Force, the forum, and the comic series from Viz, Image/Devil's Due Press and Dynamite Entertainment (with the tiniest bit of V3D - blech.) So if you are a first-time reader to my stories, well, you picked a really good place to start.
The usual disclaimer applies: I own nothing except the characters and planets I've created, and I do this solely for fun and entertainment purposes only, not profit.
Now let the madness begin...
Part 1: "Locked Out of Heaven" by Bruno Mars
Space Marshal Matthias Dylan Graham had little to do with the Space Academy, more properly known as the Space Explorer Academy. He was the head of the Galaxy Garrison, after all; the most powerful position in the Galaxy Alliance. Why should he waste his valuable time overseeing the Academy cadets?
There was one reason: discipline.
Not that many of the students needed punishment. It was a rarity on campus grounds to need to take disciplinary action against cadets. And usually, if there was such a need, there were plenty of other headmasters or officials to deal with it. He only dealt with the most dire of offenses.
"Space Marshal, Sir? I have the results from the psychological testing." Lieutenant Brown, Graham's youngest lieutenant to date, stood in the doorway with a large manila envelope in his hand. "Would you like them now, or would you like me to come back later?"
Graham inclined his head. "I'll take it now, Brown, thank you." He extended his arm, and the lieutenant came over to the desk and placed the envelope in his hand. It was much heavier than it usually was at this time every year, which concerned him.
"I'll be on my way out now, Sir."
"Thank you, Brown."
Once the door closed behind him, the Space Marshal pulled out the files and began to read. As he did, he felt a knot form in his stomach. Sixteen students in the psych files, none of them typical, all of them requiring monitoring and psychiatric help.
As his favorite young lieutenant, Jonathan James Hawkins, liked to say, "Psych profiles rarely lie."
As he began to skim through the files - sheet after sheet after sheet - he began to realize that there might be a few too many students suffering from "Locked Out of Heaven" syndrome. The term, facetiously coined by himself and Commander Steele many years ago after too many bourbons, referred to those students who were great. Maybe a little too great; so great that they bordered on becoming the next supersoldiers of the galaxy and future leaders of the Garrison. But they were also superbly mentally disturbed in one way or another.
So close to perfection, so close to godliness, and yet...locked out of heaven.
Graham leaned back in his desk chair and closed his eyes. He suddenly had a headache. Sixteen students was two too many, as he usually kept one floor in the dorms open every year for the students with the syndrome. Well, it wouldn't be so bad. He would keep the last two together as roommates in another dorm instead of on the third floor in Building #686.
But that third floor...Heaven help them. Heaven help all of us.
Name: McClain, Lance Charles
Age: 16
Birthplace: Pender, Nebraska; USA [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Derek McClain; Mother, Cheryl McClain (divorced).
Notes: Below-average grades in primary, middle, and high school. Juvenile detention resulting from arrest for speeding/drag-racing on public roads and for possession of marijuana. Won radio contest resulting in gift certificate for ten free flying lessons and a natural talent for flight emerged.
Name: Holgersson, Sven
Age: 16
Birthplace: Borough of Arna, Bergen; Norway [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Alrek Holgersson (deceased); Mother, Lovise Vendel Holgersson (deceased); Grandmother, Nina Vendel.
Notes: Parents (both navigators) killed in crash believed to be due to navigational error on father's part. Raised by grandmother in and around Oslo, Norway. Exceptionally gifted in science and mathematics. Spent the last seventeen months with an older girlfriend, Katrine Thorstad, using prescription painkillers recreationally. Currently ten weeks clean/sober.
"Dude. Why would they pair me up with a navigator?"
Lance McClain had experienced more in his sixteen years than most people would in a lifetime. It could probably be traced back to his parents' divorce when he was eleven. Not that the event had scarred him or stunted him for life; rather, splitting time between two households was the greatest way ever devised to get away with as much trouble as possible.
He couldn't help it, he liked to stir up trouble and gather attention. It was evident in his record, and made easier by the fact that neither of his parents had the heart to punish him. He was busy, colorful, loud...basically a hot mess. The only thing that had ever salvaged his life was his love of flying. It was the reason he was where he was right now.
His roommate seemed to be the opposite. Lance watched intently as the buff, dark-haired guy folded his clothes on the bed before putting them away. Everything was dark: dark-washed jeans, black pants, black T-shirts, black sweaters, a black wool coat, black boots, black leather shoes. "Dude. Do you happen to own any article of clothing that's not black?"
The guy turned to stare him down menacingly, his slate-blue eyes glaring like ice. "Do you have anything intelligent to say, or do you just repeat the word Dude like a parrot? Å, herregud."
Without missing a beat, Lance responded, "Well, there's an accent and a language I never heard in Pender, Nebraska. Where you from, Navigator?"
Those slate-blue eyes rolled, but they were less icy. "I'm not Navigator, my name is Sven. Sven Holgersson. And I'm from Bergen. It's the biggest city outside of Oslo in Norway." He turned back to his clothes.
"Ah. So the man in black actually has a name." He grinned. "I'm Lance. Lance McClain. I guess you and I are gonna be stuck together for a while." He motioned down to the red beanbag chair on the floor. "I hope this isn't gonna be a problem."
Sven shook his head. "As long as I don't trip over it."
"Good. 'Cuz I like it. And you will, too, once you try it. It's comfortable."
"I'm sure." Sven stacked the folded black T-shirts and shoved them into the top drawer of his bureau, next to his socks and underwear. Even his undergarments were black. As he pushed the drawer shut, he glanced over at the clock on the wall. 1430 hours. In a half hour, he'd have to take another urine test for Lieutenant Brown to prove he was clean. He didn't mind; he'd been clean for seventy-three days and was proud of his accomplishment.
"Wow, you sure like black," Lance commented after catching sight of the black socks and boxer briefs. "Just so you know, there's a chick with black lips moving into the corner room at the end of the hallway. You two already have something in common."
Sven barely acknowledged the comment. After his miserable excuse for a romantic relationship - and the abrupt way it ended - with Kat, he had no desire to date ever again. He didn't care about the girl with black lipstick at the end of the hall. He just wanted to prove himself. Prove he was clean, prove he could atone for his father's navigational error, and prove that he was worthy of this great opportunity he'd been given.
He had feeling that, despite the show he put on, Lance felt the same way.
Name: Kaga, Lisa
Age: 16
Birthplace: Avondale, Arizona; USA [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Masao Kaga; Mother, Elyse Richards Kaga (deceased); Sister, Julie Kaga.
Notes: Mother killed in vehicular accident eight years ago. Father hardly ever around, leading to rapid maturation of subject. Unusually kind and sympathetic. Able to pick up foreign languages easily. Spends spare time learning about foreign and ancient cultures.
Name: Ellington, Ginger Lynn
Age: 16
Birthplace: Houston, Texas; USA [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, George Ellington (deceased); Mother, Amelia Falk Ellington (deceased); Brother, Jamison "Jamie" George Ellington (deceased); Aunt, Lorie Falk Gardner; Uncle, Gerald Gardner.
Notes: Parents and half-brother killed in NASA ship explosion; continues to harbor grudge against NASA for incident. Raised by maternal aunt and uncle. Implicated in but never charged with sale of marijuana and horse tranquilizers. Gifted in flight.
When her roommate blinked those jaded blue eyes at her, Lisa immediately tensed up.
Lisa had always been intuitive. It was how she had survived her mother's death, her father's continual absence, and worst of all, her older sister's all-too-enthusiastic departure when she left for college and never came back or bothered to check in. She had to learn how to read people; it was the only thing that prevented her inevitable disappointment when people let her down.
It was the only way she'd survived.
This new roommate of hers was a mixed bag of emotions. She wanted to be there, and she didn't want to be there, all at the same time. "Hi. I'm Lisa."
Better to put it right out there in the open.
"I'm Ginger," she replied slowly, almost as though she was coming down from a drug-induced high. "It's nice to meet you, Lisa. It looks like we're gonna be stuck together for a while."
"Well, I wouldn't exactly call it stuck." The dark-haired beauty grinned, immediately putting her new roommate at ease. "It could always be worse. The Garrison could've put me with a serial killer or something."
At her dry comment, Ginger laughed. She liked this chick and her deadpan sense of humor. "How do you know I'm not?" she played along, those jaded blue eyes suddenly twinkling. "Lots of serial killers look innocent."
"Oh, I can tell you're not. You look like a nice, big-haired Texan girl with red lipstick."
"Hey, we own guns in Texas. Why do you think I'm such a good shooter?"
"Great. Maybe you are a serial killer."
At that, they both laughed. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all. Maybe all of the pain, loss and rejection they'd both suffered over the course of the past few years had been necessary to lead into this moment. Maybe they were finally somewhere they belonged.
It was a good feeling.
Name: Garrett, Tsuyoshi "Hunk"
Age: 16
Birthplace: Tokyo City, Tokyo; Japan [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Benjamin Garrett; Mother, Kaori Inoue Garrett; Brother, Akira Garrett; Brother, George Garrett; Brother, Kenji Garrett; Brother, Damon Garrett.
Notes: Family moved to Tennessee in subject's early youth. Youngest of five boys. Socially inept; uses size for intimidation. Gifted in all aspects of engineering.
Name: Stoker, Darrell "Pidge"
Age: 12
Birthplace: [Planet Balto (undisclosed origin)]
Family: Twin Brother, Chip Stoker; Adoptive Father, Christian Stoker; Adoptive Mother, Jeanine Stoker.
Notes: Younger than twin Chip Stoker by eleven minutes. Brought to Denver, Colorado (USA; Planet Earth) for adoption. Noticeably undersized for age. Incredibly high scores on state-mandated IQ test. Natural ability with systems and mathematics. Very little social skills.
Name: Stoker, Chip
Age: 12
Birthplace: [Planet Balto (undisclosed origin)]
Family: Twin Brother, Darrell "Pidge" Stoker; Adoptive Father, Christian Stoker; Adoptive Mother, Jeanine Stoker.
Notes: Older than twin Darrell "Pidge" Stoker by eleven minutes. Brought to Denver, Colorado (USA; Planet Earth) for adoption. Noticeably undersized for age. Incredibly high scores on state-mandated IQ test. Natural ability with systems and mathematics. Very little social skills.
Name: Shinobu, Rocky
Age: 16
Birthplace: Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, New York, New York; USA [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Takeo Shinobu; Mother, Katherine Dioli (never married).
Notes: Cynical in nature. Considered a bully in formative years. Uses size for intimidation. Placed second in teenage lifting competition and first in sumo wrestling competition. Obsession with flying.
Four pairs of eyes met in the small room. Pidge's and Hunk's room. This was not the way any of them had intended to start out their career at the Space Academy, and yet...there they were. The roommate pairings just seemed odd. Off.
Hunk and Rocky looked like they could have been twins - or at least, brothers from another mother - and Chip and Pidge actually were twins. It seemed logical that they'd be rooming together in that way. But no, Hunk and Pidge were stuck together on the third floor of building #686, while Rocky and Chip were trapped on the second floor of building #672.
It was the first time in their twelve years that the twins had been separated.
Behind his glasses, Chip was the first one to finally say something. "I get it."
He was answered with three blank stares.
"No, think about it for a second." The older twin cleaned his glasses on the hem of his shirt, keeping the other three in suspense. "Pidge and I are the runts of our class year. We're the youngest, the smallest, and practically the smartest. We're fodder for bullying and teasing."
"Definitely," Pidge agreed.
Chip then looked at Rocky and Hunk. "But you two...you two are huge. And intimidating. And you look mean."
"Don't make me beat you, Short Stack," Rocky grumbled to his new roommate in his thick Brooklyn accent.
"Please tell me you didn't intend that as a jab," Hunk added threateningly.
Chip shook his head. "No, actually, I meant it as a compliment." He smiled sheepishly. "See? No social graces, that's what all of the paperwork will tell you about the two of us."
"Yeah. We've got to work on that," Pidge chimed in.
Looking over at Hunk, Rocky rolled his eyes. "Great. So are you gonna make your point, or what?"
"I'm getting there. Sheesh." Chip shrugged. "In any case, Pidge and I were split up and put with each of you guys for protective purposes. If we roomed together, we'd be an easy target for bullying. But with us split up, rooming with tough guys like the two of you, well, no one would dare mess with us."
Hunk crossed his arms over his chest. "Eh, I guess that's true. I won't take too kindly to anybody who picks on my roommate."
"Me neither." Rocky nodded in agreement.
Chip smiled. "See! You get it. I knew you'd get there eventually."
Rocky and Hunk exchanged another glance. "On second thought," the Brooklynite mentioned, "maybe I do need to beat him."
Name: Kirigas, Cinda
Age: 16
Birthplace: District 104/Talech; Kasmir [Planet Mira a.k.a. "Hydra"]
Family: Unknown.
Notes: Abandoned at Talech Orphanage within days of birth. Extraordinarily high IQ among Miran culture, including so-called "sixth sense." Exceptionally gifted with technical and engineering skills. More comfortable alone due to upbringing in orphanage.
Name: Asimov, Kelly Ayn
Age: 16
Birthplace: Fontabelle, Bridgetown; Barbados [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Andrew Asimov (current whereabouts unknown); Mother, Erin Featherston Asimov (divorced).
Notes: Mother moved subject to New York City at age ten. Cynical in nature, distrustful of adults and people in general. Considered "street smart."
They seemed an unlikely pairing.
Cinda was Miran; it was obvious by her blue skin and vivid blue hair. And Kelly was a typical Bajan - tawny brown skin, large hazel eyes, and curly ash-blond hair. Out of the six girls on their floor, they were the only two who didn't have white skin.
Kelly swore it was racist and sexist, but said nothing. Nothing in English, anyway. In Bajan, it was an entirely different story.
Cinda merely blinked at her new roommate as she went off on her tirade. When Kelly finally quieted down, the Miran girl asked politely, "Are you finally done?"
"What? Are you lookin' for a fight, Blue Girl?" Kelly was always ready to rumble; she'd been a force of nature with the proverbial chip on her shoulder since her father walked out on her and her mother. "'Cuz I can take whatever you got and then some."
Cinda sighed. "No, of course I'm not looking for a fight. I was simply curious to know if you were happy to be here, or if someone forced you to be here."
"Huh." Kelly shook her head, and a waterfall of ashy curls whipped back and forth. "No. I'm here because it was the best way to get the heck out of my country and away from my crazy family drama. And besides," she added, almost as an afterthought, "I like to shoot things."
The Miran girl nodded.
"How 'bout you, Blue Girl?"
"Cinda. My name is Cinda."
"Oh. I'm Kelly, by the way." She looked her alien roommate up and down. "But I just want you to know, I'm calling you Blue Girl."
Cinda sighed again. She definitely wasn't used to living with a person this blunt and confrontational. "Please don't."
Kelly rolled her hazel eyes. "Fine. I'll try my best. But don't go lookin' for trouble if I slip from time to time."
"How about you call me Cindy instead?" she smiled. "No one else calls me that, so it'll be your own special nickname for me." Her blue-green eyes flashed brilliantly, and even if Kelly had wanted to argue the point with her, she wouldn't have been able to.
"You got a deal."
"Great."
They were off to a good start. Cinda wasn't exactly sure what would come of this roommate pairing, but she decided that she wouldn't worry about it right now. She had bigger, more important things to focus on.
Like engineering.
Name: Jack, Clifford Walter
Age: 16
Birthplace: Melbourne, Victoria; Australia [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Justin Jack; Mother, Ellen Walker Jack; Brother, James "Jimmy" Jack.
Notes: Family owns dairy/cattle farm. Has no desire to follow in family business. Also has no previous experience with flight but is very eager to learn.
Name: Dalloway, Aidan
Age: 16
Birthplace: Albany, New York; USA [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Adrian Dalloway; Mother, Carly Anderson (current whereabouts unknown).
Notes: Born to workaholic father and drug-addicted mother. Mother left eleven years ago. Subject's girlfriend, Shaye O'Keeley, died six months ago due to overdose on heroin at frat party.
He didn't know what he was doing at the Space Academy. All he knew was that he wanted to go the total opposite of everyone else in his family. Their livelihood was in cattle. Farming. For them, their lives and careers were tied to the land.
So Cliff had wanted to go in the complete opposite direction and base his career on the sky. In flight. And becoming a Space Explorer seemed the perfect way to go about it.
That was his own story, anyway. As for his roommate, well, he had no idea why he was there.
"Wow, you're really from Australia," the blond guy mused, looking impressed. "That's really cool. Like, you're from down under. Tell me, is it true that the toilets really flush the other way than they do here?"
Well, Cliff, at least he's a decent chap. It could be a lot worse. "Um, to be honest, Mate, I've never paid that much attention to the loo."
His roommate grinned. He was, by all accounts, a good-looking guy: tall, lean, muscular, with sapphire eyes and the most beautiful long, blond, wavy hair he'd ever seen. Oh, and dimples. This guy could have been on the cover of a magazine. Any magazine. "Mate. You called me Mate. That's freakin' awesome."
"Well, you haven't told me your name yet."
"It's Aidan." The young blond god reached his hand out to shake Cliff's. "Aidan Dalloway. And I'm a native of New York, so don't be surprised that I find it fascinating that you're from Australia." He grinned again, and if Cliff had a camera in his hands, he would have snapped a photo and submitted it to every modeling agency in town. "I've never been outside the state before."
"Well, I'm Cliff Jack, and my family is filled with a bunch of cattle farmers," the Australian admitted. "My life isn't so glamorous, believe me. And I won't be taking you back to my homeland unless we're docking in Sydney." He rolled his eyes. "There's nothing special about the part of the country where my family comes from."
"Hey, just tell me when you're going, and I'll get my bags packed."
At those words, Cliff laughed. He liked this guy. And he was relieved that he had a tour guide to help him navigate his way through New York City. He'd been nervous about that, and now he didn't need to be.
Oh, and even better, he'd found a friend. And somehow, he knew that their bond would last a lifetime.
Name: Feld, Morgan
Age: 16
Birthplace: Chicago, Illinois; USA [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Mark Chandler (current whereabouts unknown); Mother, Lucy Feld (divorced).
Notes: Family abandoned by father ten years ago. Juvenile record including possession and use of marijuana, breaking and entering, petty theft/fifth- and sixth-degree larceny. Exceptionally gifted in mathematics.
Name: Stensson, Lenora Marie
Age: 16
Birthplace: Westchester, New York; USA [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Kristoffer Stensson (deceased); Mother, Angelie Nabors-Stensson.
Notes: Exceptionally gifted in the field of computers and technology from a young age. Skilled in all forms of martial arts. Father killed two years ago in random homicide. Subject suffering from trust issues and severe depression. Prone to psychological outbursts, including the wearing of black lipstick.
Two photos. Two framed photos sat on her desk: one of an attractive couple, the other of the same man from that couple holding a toddler.
It was two more photos than Morgan had on her desk.
"So," she asked her new roommate slowly, leaning against her desk, "are they your parents?"
The chestnut-haired girl nodded in reply.
"So I take it that's you as a toddler with your dad."
"Yeah," she squeaked.
Morgan crossed the room and picked up the framed photo. "You were super cute," she offered finally, warily eyeing her roommate. "But with your black lipstick, I'd never guess that this was you as a little girl."
"No kidding, huh." She finally cracked a smile. "I'm Lenora. Lenora Stensson."
"Pretty name. Do your friends call you Len?"
What friends? she thought. Her friends had all disappeared after her father's funeral. And nobody had ever called her Len before, but she liked it. Her parents had called her Nora out of affection, but nobody had ever, ever called her Len.
"Yeah. They do."
"Cool. That's what I'm gonna call you." She smirked. "My name's Morgan. Last name's Feld. And watch out, 'cuz I can cause trouble six ways to Sunday."
At that, she laughed. "For some reason, Feld, I don't doubt it."
Amusement flashed in the girl's violet eyes, and Lenora thought that she might have finally, finally found a friend. It had been such a long time that she forgot what it was like. Maybe now things would start to improve, and she could stop wearing her black lipstick.
Or...maybe not.
Name: Kogane, Keith Akira
Age: 16
Birthplace: Tin Hau, Causeway Bay (Eastern District); Hong Kong [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Akio Daiki Kogane (deceased); Mother, Bao "Christine" Ling Kogane (deceased); Sister, Christiane Eiko Kogane (ward of state; current whereabouts unknown).
Notes: Parents killed in accident four years ago. Subject has been bounced around foster homes, never able to stay with one family too long due to tendency to argue and inability to get along with other foster family members. Quiet and suffers from severe trust and anxiety issues. Possesses brilliant tactical mind.
Name: Aki, Jeffrey Manabu
Age: 16
Birthplace: Yomitan, Okinawa (Torii Station); Japan [Planet Earth]
Family: Father, Geoffrey Dukane; Mother, Rin Aki (divorced).
Notes: Subject and mother left father at Fort Benning, Georgia, after an altercation which resulted in the fracture of mother's arm. Raised by mother in Brooklyn, where subject was bullied by classmates. Known for hot temper. Possesses brilliant tactical mind.
The mullet. It was the first thing that Jeff noticed about his new roommate. He had a glorious crop of hair. If he were a girl, the first thing he'd do was run his fingers through it.
The second thing he noticed was that the guy was quiet. Too quiet. Bordering-on-disturbed quiet, which made Jeff wonder if perhaps the guy was a mass murderer in the making. But then again, Jeff had always been overly cautious. Growing up with a bully for a father, and then being bullied by classmates - it would do that to a guy.
Along with creating a fierce temper, but that was a different story.
As Jeff unpacked his belongings, beginning to settle into their small dorm room, he noted that his new roommate had been very unwelcoming. The guy had been sitting at his desk, his nose deep into a book written in Japanese, not paying any attention to the person who would be sharing his space. The guy's actions left him feeling disturbed. He hated being ignored; again, it was something his father used to do to him.
Jeff hated that he had "daddy" issues.
"I always liked reading manga," he offered to break the ice.
The mullet-headed guy forcefully put his book down and turned to look at him. "This is not manga," he shot out defensively, shooting Jeff an angry glare. "I'm not a child. I don't read cartoons." Then he glanced back down at the book like nothing had happened, and continued to ignore his roommate.
At the outburst, Jeff tamped down his anger. He had been known to get in trouble at school before. He couldn't understand it - he was the one who'd been picked on relentlessly, but when he finally stood his ground and defended himself, he was the one who got in trouble. Then he remembered that he was in a new school and he had the chance for a new start. He didn't want to end up the way he had before.
Silently, he continued to put his items away. The way he figured, this roommate of his would have to come around eventually. After all, there was no way two people could live in the same small space without at least introducing themselves to each other.
Right?
Evolutionary Notes:
* The original roommate pairings were as follows: Hunk/Pidge, Keith/Lance, Jeff/Cliff, Sven/Aidan, Lisa/Cinda, Morgan/Kelly, Ginger/Lenora.
* When I first began writing, there were no first names for Commander Hawkins or Space Marshal Graham, which is how Jonathan and Matthias came about. Many years later, the names "James" and "Dylan" came forward in the different comic book series (DDP's "Voltron" and Dynamite's "Voltron: Year One" respectively.) I've chosen to keep my original names, but I've added the canon names as middle names.
* There was another pair of OC roommates. When I updated my stories, I cut Alicia Bedford and LeeLee Xiang out, mostly because I never developed them as characters - they were sort of like the Zandee and Tangor of Vehicle Voltron. But I didn't get rid of them; I have a tendency to recycle ideas. Keep reading.
* There are lots of little references to the different comic series. I won't point them all out, but if you catch 'em, they're kind of entertaining.
* Kelly was not originally Bajan; she was a red-haired Irish girl who was interested in Lance and was friendly with another one of my OCs, David Rackens. (If you know David, great! If you don't, keep reading.) I decided I didn't want to go that route, and as I was trying to figure out what I wanted to morph her into, I fell in love with Rihanna circa the 2012 Grammy Awards. But I didn't just get rid of my original vision of Kelly. I recycled her into Anastasia, David's girlfriend.
* Speaking of Kelly, the last name Asimov was borrowed from the Dairugger subs. Captain Dick Asimov, anyone?
* I tended to stick with the Image/DDP comics and their backgrounds for our heroes. Except for Sven. In my stories, the Viking is always from Norway.