A/N: Alright, I'll make this brief. If you've read my profile, you'll know that this is a prequel to Sloan's trilogy, so you don't need to read my other books to understand what's going on. (Although those who have read Old Friend's Request might find certain characters familiar) I am trying to buzz through this part to get back to Sloan, so this story and the next one will be as short as possible.

Just cuz' I have to… Any characters/locations/themes that are directly featured in any Nintendo released item are copyright © Nintendo. All other characters/locations/themes are copyright © Fira Astrali

I can't think of anything else, so enjoy!

Regen Sarr had seen a lot of squalor in his years -being a space pirate meant you didn't always see the greatest side of a planet- but this little hunk of rock on the edge of the Lylat system was something different all together. Under a low, greasy sky was an endless maze of rundown shacks, three families crammed into barely one room. Homeless people huddled in dirty blankets outside the doors. It reminded him heavily of Berman, except there were no warehouses or factories to even pretend there might be jobs around. This was where people went to be swallowed and forgotten.

Regen's clean clothes attracted attention, but his easily viewed sidearm dissuaded anyone from approaching. Sad, hopeless eyes watched him walk past without challenge. They had no idea why he had come, but they knew that soon he would leave, a luxury to be envied. He clutched a filled file in his hand, eager to find his target and be gone from the place. He turned down a side street, stepping over the sad, destitute citizens, trying to ignore the smell and their pleas for his help, and headed towards the house that belonged to his employer.

It was far from the main streets, and held only one resident, because no one wanted to go near the 'mad wolf' of Eladard. The hall deposited him in a wide, deserted court, walled in on every side, with a cement floor. It was dark and cold, and Regen's only desire was to rid himself of his task and get away.

The only thing in the court besides a clump of weeds and a forgotten paper was a door that lay on the other side from the street. It was lopsided on its hinges, and was swinging slightly. There was no light flickering from behind it, but he knew that she was inside. He crossed the court and pulled open the rotten wood door. He was greeted by the gloom and filth of a house that was long ago abandoned. Dust lay thickly over everything, and he could see broken and gutted furniture in rooms that had once been for entertaining, telling him the Eladard had not always been gripped by poverty.

"Anyone in here?" he called into the gloom. A scratching noise came in the direction of what once might have been a kitchen. Sitting huddled in between a large broken appliance and the wall was a woman. She was thin and frail looking, with wild eyes that told Regen her time on Eladard had not been kind to her mind. The floral dress she was wearing was dirty and ragged, and the same one she had been wearing when he first saw her weeks ago. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her chest, and her face was almost completely obscured by extremely long, dark grey head fur with a white line in it.

Regen kneeled down in front of her. She didn't seem to notice him, so he threw the file he'd been carrying down on the floor next to her. Her whole body jerked from the quiet noise, and she inched away from it. She was shivering, like she had just been thrown into ice water.

"What did you find?" she asked him, her voice quiet.

"You were right all along. Your husband had nothing to do with those terrorist attacks. He should be a free man."

"Did you find out who was really behind it?"

"No, but I found enough to get your husband out of prison."

Regen was confused by the bitter laugh that was the woman's answer.

"You underestimate the power of the man who put him there. Space pirates might control Boolie, but you are nothing in this system. No, this information is useless." She glanced at the closed file, then looked away again, staring back into space. "You've been good to me, no one here in Lylat would have indulged the ramblings of a crazed old woman like me." Her head turned to scan the room, then fell on a closed door across the hall. "As you can see, I have no money with which to pay you, so I wish to offer you a gift instead."

"A gift? What kind of gift?"

The woman didn't answer, instead pointing to the closed door. Regen got up, and cautiously went to open it. He hesitated, with his hand on the knob, and glanced back at the woman. She was watching him intently, expectantly. He turned back and opened the door.

What he found was a bedroom. It was in similar condition to the rest of the house, minus a small bundle of extremely clean, white sheets. Regen looked though the doorway again. This time, the woman nodded, and Regen assumed it was his prize. He began to gently unwrap it.

It shifted in his hands.

He jumped back, crying out, watching as it continued to shift. A glance backwards offered only another nod. He reached out and tugged away one of the sheets.

A baby's face came into view. It was a tiny wolf pup, male. He watched its nose twitch and sneeze in the presence of so much dust, and it fought to get its tiny paws free of the sheets.

"What is this?"

"I would assume it would be fairly obvious," the woman said.

"Is this your son?"

"Not for much longer, I hope. Look around you, what do you see for him? Cold nights, an empty belly, early death, that's all he has to look forward too. His mother is a lunatic, and his father is serving a life sentence for treason, the only way his life holds any promise is to escape this system. You are a good man, Regen Sarr, I know you will take care of him." The woman stared at him pleadingly, her deep purple eyes visible through her curtain of hair.

Regen looked back at the child, who was beginning to cry from his discomfort. He gently picked the baby up and held him in his arms.

"What's his name?" he asked, bending down to pick up the discarded file folder.

"It doesn't matter," the woman answered. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she watched her son cuddle against Regen. She reached out to touch him one last time, but pulled her hand back. She looked away. "Now go, and never come back here. Forget I even exist."

Regen left Eladard before the sun went down that very day, but the soul-cutting sobs of a childless mother would haunt him for much longer.

Regen had many children, few of which held the characteristics of both parents, and for space pirates, taking in someone else's child was a normal thing. So no one noticed when Regen's brood suddenly grew by one, with no pregnancy on the part of his wife. The file he had compiled was placed in a locked drawer in his desk, along with the rest of his family's important papers. The orphan from Eladard was christened Oban Sarr and, as his birth mother had requested, no one said anything about his strange origins. He grew in their house, and never doubted that he was a Sarr son. It seemed as if his mother's wish would be granted, and he would never see the face of his home system. However, the best laid plans of mice and men have a tendency to come undone…

Inloya had four seasons, just like every other planet. They were: winter, still winter, almost winter, and a bit warmer than winter. Oban didn't remember the last time he had been able to walk around outside without a coat on.

It wasn't that he minded the cold, or the snow, he had a great appreciation for the beauty a light dusting could give everything. There was nothing wrong with the planet's people, indeed they were the friendliest, warmest people Oban had ever met. His only complaint was the lack of change.

Everything always stayed the same on his home planet –or the closest thing to, seeing as he made his home on an orbiting space station- he had spent nearly 18 years on a planet that was always cold and beautiful, with the same type of people around him all the time. He craved for something to change, and what made it so incredibly exciting was that he knew he was about to get his wish. His 18th birthday was coming up, today was is Last Day as a child, and his First Night as a man was coming very quickly.

He was spending his Last Day with his two best friends in the system: Xannon Zindia and Vent Starkiller. The three were a strange mix, each coming from a different walk of life that didn't usually associate with one another. Xannon was from a line of pirates known as the First Navy. They really had nothing to do with the army, it was just the name for the nobility of space pirate families. Xannon came from the highest part of the upper crust, as the beautiful young vulpine was the daughter of Boolie's ruling monarch, Empress Hera Zindia.

Vent came from the complete opposite end of the spectrum. He had come alone from Outlander space hoping to find a better life for himself. Not easily done, when one looked at the massive avian's linebacker-esk build and serrated beak said he was a Deep Space pirate, a title which carried a reputation for being cruel and untrustworthy.

Oban, many said, was what kept the threesome together. His father's business dealt with pirates from Deep Space and The Navy, which meant Oban dealt with the both of them as well. Xannon and Vent had met because of their friendship with Oban, and he had kept them together.

Both Xannon and Vent had already had there First Nights, so the nearing of Oban's meant there plans for escape and adventure were about to come true. Without the consent of their parents, they had planned a trip together across Boolie. Once Oban became an adult, and his parents couldn't say no, there would be nothing in their way.

"I think we should leave right away, after Oban's party," Xannon was commenting as they wandered around town.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Vent cautioned solemnly. Xannon looked surprised, Vent was usually the least level headed and considerate of the three.

"Oh, and why's that? Do you think we should tell Oban's parents where we're going?"

Vent's face cracked, a huge grin spreading across his features.

"Well, I just thought it will be hard on Obie, seeing as he'll have an awful headache."

"What?"

"Come on, Oban, it's your first night a man, I might just have to get you drunk!" he laughed.

"Vent!" Xannon cried, "Just because he's an adult doesn't mean he needs to get weasel faced."

"What did you do on your First Night, Princess?"

Oban put his hands up to stop what was sure to be a fight.

"Guys, wait a second. I can't leave without telling my parents were I'm going. I have to leave them a note or… something," he muttered.

"Oban, you've had more than two years to figure this out, don't you know how you're going to say goodbye?"

"I was thinking about telling my dad at midnight."

"Ooh, right after he could do something about it, I like," Vent commented. Xannon sighed.

"Alright, fine, as long as you don't tell them where we're going."

"Do we even know where we're going?"

Oban let his serious question be drowned in the laughter of his friends. The adventure of his life was just hours away.