A Story of Sibh'Bae - SWTOR

A Story of Sibh’Bae

By Sibh’Bae


Moving across the hanger she glances from side to side, this is what she loves, all the ships docked in the hanger hold small pieces of her heart. She smiles to herself as she thinks back to the day she was first brought into the hangers. The wonder and amazement she felt seeing all the ships. This had been the one thing that saved her so many years ago when Zek had brought her here. She was told by Zek that she may go anyway on the small base, but she is not allowed to leave, she can still remember his words clearly as she looked around. “ Little Dear….Sibh, this is your home now and you are safe here with me. You needn’t worry about anything anymore, okay?” Her smile widening on her lips as she moves farther into the hanger. She let’s the memories of all the hours she had spent here run through her mind, all the time learning everything about the ships. All the time she had spent by Patics side, listening and trying to take in all he had to teach. He always teased her that she must be a natural with the ships. He only had to show her once and she could fix anything. Same with flying the ship too, Sibh is a natural, she was fifteen the first time Zek set her in the pilots chair. She had flown with him many times but never from the pilots chair, he tells her that it was time for her to start earning her keep. She remembers his voice holding a hint of laughter as he told her these. Along with so many other memories this one she holds dear, she can feel her hands wrap around the controls, feel the ship slowly curve as she tilts the control to the right. She imagined this is how Sran, her long lost brother felt when he first started flying. After that first flight, Zek was speechless and let her start flying with him and his trusted crew on the Sparrow’s Claw.


At the age of eighteen she had managed to become basically Zek’s partner in all his legal and illegal ventures. Everyone respected her knowing she had worked hard and earned her own way. It didn’t hurt that her beauty over the years became stunning, and Zek was in love with her, he wanted her but never forced the issue.


She had went to Zek’s bed willingly, she was twenty and he thirty-one, she couldn’t lie to herself. She loved him just as much he loved her, he was one of those young looking men, even at thirty-one. Raven black hair that fell to his shoulders, smooth skin the color of bronze, not a huge man but tone and standing only a few inches taller than her, he was striking. His eyes though, they are what mesmerized her, green eyes that glimmered with the intelligence that over the years had taken his small pirate outpost to a trading business that dealt with many around the galaxy. Ranging from the Hutt’s to the Imperials, to the Republic. Zek eyes had been the one thing that really captivated Sibh, she could sit for hours and stare into them.


Giving her head a small shake trying to bring herself back to the now, Sibh’Bae Ly’ang, but just Sibh to everyone here, strolls to the ship and grabs the datapad on the table. The ship next to her is not hers, but is one of the many in their small fleet, The Cracken, a small freighter that has been having trouble with its hyerdrive. Sibh yells up and leans back so she can see around the wing. “Hey up there old man….what’re you screwing up today that I’ll have to fix.”


A small old human man with thick goggle like glasses pokes his head up and grumbles at her. “Sibh…Sibh that you?”


“Yes Patic, you old buzzard, Miinus said Cracken here is given you some grief. Care for a hand?”


“It’s about time you get off that ever widening ass of yours and get back in here with us grunts and do something.” He grumbles as he climbs out of the compartment, and down the ships front side. The years have not been good to Patic, making him rough and scary looking, but Sibh knows that his appearance shows nothing of the gentle soul that lays inside.


“Ever widening ass… huh?” Sibh laughs softly and attempts to twist her head around and look at her butt. “Zek hasn’t said anything about my butt getting big, I think he’s still pretty happy with it.”


Patric’s shuffling steps coming around the wing and towards her draws her attention. She looks up from the datapad and smiles. “How are you Patic?” Sibh gently pats his shoulder.


“That’s it… you’ve been gone for weeks on a run and that’s all I get.” Patic grabs her and frail as he may seem, his arms wrap her in an iron grip hug. “Sibh your okay…” his voice trails off and she can hear the relief flood from his sigh.


“Sorry Patic,” She gets out softly. “I’m fine, really. I am. It got a bit tense but….I’m fine,” Her tone of voice trying to reinforce her words. “Hey where’s Zek, I asked around and everyone seems to think he somewhere else. I got three different answers. Fess up, what’s he up to.” She pulls out of Patics arms and starts looking at the datapad again.


“Oh you know him always trying to make money. Before he left he told me he had a job for the Jedi and he would be back before you.” Patic turns to the ship and opens a panel, cursing and grabbing wires as he look for the problem that seems to be eluding him.


“A Jedi job,” she says with a hum. She takes a knee next to him and starts examining the inside of the small compartment, glancing between it and the datapad. “That’s it…that’s all he said was a Jedi job?” This gives her an instant twang of fear with the tension between the Imperials, Republic, and Jedi. She tries to concentrate on the problem in front of her face, The Cracken and why its hyperdrive is not working. But in the back of her mind she can feel the worry nag at her, and she hates it. “Hey look here, this plasma coil is just barely running a pulse through it, hold on and I’ll grab another.” She stands and moves to one of the tool chest setting the datapad back on the table. Picking up a few tools and a new coil, “Patic go get ready to start her up.”

“Okay little dear,” Patic starts off to board the ship and then stops and turns speaking quickly. ”Zek knows what he’s about Sibh, you don’t worry yourself, okay?” with that he off again. Besides Zek, Patic is the only one that she ever allows to call her that. Secretly she hates it.


She walks back to the open panel and arranges her tools next to her, she has picked up a comlink to and buzzes the ship. “Patic you there?” there is a click and a soft buzz.


“Seriously Sibh you let yourself get work up over the silliest things.” Patic voice comes over the comlink. She let’s herself scowls at the voice coming over the com.


“I know Zek is a big boy and he can take care of himself, but with all the tension between the masses these days. I don’t want anyone thinking he is picking a side.” a hint of worry in her voice as she speaks over the open com. Her hands make quick work of the coil and she gets up, wiping her hands on a rag. “Okay, Old man fire her up.” Taking a step back she hears a ship coming in over head and she let’s her eyes track the sound of it across the roof of the hanger. The engine of the Cracken then starts to turn and a whining sound starts to come from the panel that she has just replaced the coil in. Leaning down and looking into the panel a smile crosses her face right before there’s a loud bang and a plume of smoke comes billowing out covering her from head to toe. She turns starting for the open hanger door waving her hands to clear the smoke in front of her. Patic comes hobbling down the ramp of the ship and sees her wiping her face with a rag, the soot is making smudges on her smooth blue skin. A wide smile greeting his frown, “Patic, really you are getting old,” her tone playful. “It’s the vibera cable connecting the vax thruster to the coil. Right before the engine kicked there was a spark.” Her eyes twinkling like lavender pools she winks at him. “Zeks back!” She doesn’t give him a chance to responded before she is out the door of the hanger.

The Lost Now Found - Volyee ESO

The Lost Now Found

by Sibh'Bae



Pale green eyes scan the dry desert landscape, and freeze as they land on the small moving thing. Kyielle lowers herself to a squat as she lets her eyes track the slow progress of the figure. With the ending of the day’s light she wants to try and understand what she is seeing.


“What is it?” she breathes out softly so that only she can hear her solemn question. Finally she rises to her full height, she is an imposing figure. Her Altmer heritage saw to that. Turning swiftly from the figure that has made little progress she strides on long athletic legs to gather her horses. Mounting her favorite horse, a paint with a very spirited soul that she affectionately calls Dusty.


“Come on Dusty let’s go see what it is.” Kyielle instructs the horse as she pats his neck.


With a kick of her heels Dusty and her head towards the small figure at a loping speed. The other two horses that are with them follow matching Dusty’s canter being lead by their tethers. As they approach Kyielle can see the figure is a child maybe between ten and twelve, an orc child. Though it looks like no orc she has ever seen. As she and the horses approach the adolescent, she realizes that the orc is trying to move faster. Though it is having no luck with its small feet, they keeps stumbling in the sandy terrain and the orc does its best to stay upright. Finally when she has got within a few yards from the orc child, it turns and Kyielle can see it is a small female. She is in awe of the little lady, how did she get out here and why? As she watches the child snarls and hold up a small dagger that has been pulled from a hidden sheath. She slows Dusty, then dismounts as he stops now only feet from the small orc.


“Calm little one, calm.” with hands raised and hunching into a squat trying to not appear threatening she carefully closes the gap. “Do you understand my words little one? I do not wish you any harm. I feel you are in need of some help.”


The orc is strange looking to her pale green eyes, she looks to have covered herself with mud or muck of some sort, and she smells to the heavens. Her eyes though are what transfix Kyielle and she wants to know about this small being. Silvery white eyes looks out from a leaf made hood, that shades a filth smeared face. The orc is tiny compared to those of her race and age, she remembers seeing the orc children during her time fighting in the war. Part of it Kyielle is sure from being malnourished, but this orc is just too small.


“I have water, and food little one.” Kyielle watches the small face shift through several emotions as she is sure the orc is considering her words. This proving to her that the orc at least understands her. “I will give you some and then I will let you set back out on your way. I was just going to set up camp, there is a small rock outcrop just up the slope. You are welcome to join me.”


“I am no slave.” the low rough voice speaking the few words does not surprise Kyielle and she gives a small smile.


“I did not think you a slave little one. But that is good to know. I am only offering a warm fire some food and water, and maybe a little company. This desert is very lonely when you travel by yourself.” Kyielle points up the small hill to the right. “I am going to go up and get my fire started, you are welcome to join me like I said. My only request is that you take this water skin and wash your face off and clean yourself up a little. I don’t mean to offend but you are putrid”


Returning to the horses she grabs a few things, and then goes back to the orc. Kyielle carefully lays the full oversized water skin down along with a few clothes and a chuck of soap. Finally she adds a clean shirt to the pile. She then turns and in a few steps she has remounted Dusty. Turning him slowly she again points up the slope, “Just over the crest.” then she gives Dusty a small kick getting him walking up to where she had just pointed.




After starting the fire, she gets some dry meat soup bubbling. She had looked down on the small orc once or twice, the first time she watched the orc pace back and forth next to the small stack of items. The second time she looks down the tiny figure had her hood off and was scrubbing her face and hair. White, pure white skin and pure white hair. She has never seen anything like it. The orc girl is an albino. Her eyes are transfixed, Kyielle had heard rumors of albino orcs but they are said to be very rare. And most of these oddities are either seen as a curse or a blessing by their own kind, most of those albino orcs seen as a curse never live long. Those seen as a blessing are usually hidden away and treated as idols of Malacath. For this little one to be out here in the desert, well it is just unbelievable.


Finally Kyielle pulls her eyes from the sight, she settles herself down on her bedroll and waits. After some time the small orc comes into sight at the top edge of the slope. Kyielle waves and lightly says. “Come little one, I have soup.” She then watches as the small figure inches closer. The orc is stunning to look upon, besides the cuts and bruises that mar her skin here and there, she is a sight to behold. “Please come sit.”


“I…. am no slave, I am…. Volyee.” The voice is like silk being drug over rough rocks, and the speech is crude.


“Volyee is it, well I am Kyielle. It is nice to meet you.” she motions to a spare bedroll that has been laid out and watches as Volyee slowly moves to it, then settles down. Kyielle then passes her a bowl filled with soup, a hunk of crusty bread and a spoon. She smirks as Volyee takes them, looks at them, then drops the spoon and and bread. The bowl is instantly raised to her lips as she begins drinking the soup from the edge of the bowl.


“Hungry I see.” Kyielle asks as she too begins to drink her soup from the edge of the bowl.


“Yes,” Volyee manages between gulps.


Kyielle and Volyee eat the rest of the meal in silence. Volyee eats pretty much all the soup that had been made by Kyielle, plus several chunks of the bread. Finally the little Orc seems to have been satisfied, and has managed to wrap herself up in the bedroll now looking very sleepy.


“Volyee, sleep I will watch over you. If I had planned you harm little one I would have already cause it upon you. I am just a wayward traveler just as you.” Kyielle’s voice soft and soothing as she coos to her adolescent companion.


White silvery eyes focus on Kyielle and tears start to fall, looking like tiny gems slipping down the snowy cheeks. “I am scared….I am alone.” the hushed gravelly words are spoken, showing just how broken the young girl is.


Kyielle raises and moves to the small child's side wrapping her in a full embrace. She holds Volyee tightly as she can feel the tiny ones racking sobs. What has this child seen? What has this child been through? Why have the gods places them both here at the same time? The questions filter through Kyielle’s mind as she just sits and cradles Volyee. Finally after what seems like hours Volyee’s crying subsides and her breathing becomes rhythmic. Kyielle continues to rock her, holding her tight to her chest. Her pale green eyes staring into the flames of the dying fire.


“She is mine, isn’t she?” the soft words just barely audible. “I promise, I will protect her, guide her, and raise her to be strong and wise.”


The flames flare strangely, and Kyielle narrows her eyes as she can swear she sees a face there dancing there among them. A chill runs through her body as she hears the soft words among the crackling flames “Thank you.”

Eein DyShann Origin Story

Crickets chirping and there is a smell, what is that, it smells horrible. Death, yes it has to be death, only death could smell that bad.

On weak arms the Dunmer slowly raises himself and looks around, he is where? With an easy caution his carefully pulls his knees up under him. He’s wet, why is he wet? Nothing's making sense, his head feels like a herd of guar are stampeding through it. Now on with his hands and knees beneath him, he pushes himself up to settle into a kneeling position. His steely gray eyes look around, everything is blurry, lots of green and gray smears.

The pain hits him like a greatsword in his guts and he doubles over, bile erupting from his mouth. Is that blood? A trembling hand moves to wipe at his mouth and as it comes away he sees the crimson streaks throughout the retch that now runs from his chin. His eyes slip closed  and he heaves in a few raspy breaths. With trembling arms he pushes himself up to again be sitting on his knees. Leaning back just slightly he let’s his head fall allowing the soft rain to patter down on his pallid face.

Everything in him burns and screams with pain, why? What has happen to him, his mind seems to be locked away from him. Wait a minute who is he?

Kneeling there in the mud and muck he feels lost in every way. He tries to recall anything, any little memory or thought of what has happened to him. But there is nothing, just a blackness that even now edges closer to his sanity, like a lion stalking its prey.

It strikes again with no warning the pain ripping at his middle, he falls forward once more and this time he swears on anything and everything there is nothing left for his stomach to give. And if he must vomit again may the blasted act take what is left of his tortured mysterious soul, because the pain feels as though he is being torn into two pieces. He wants to move his hands to his middle, but he knows he must stay off the ground. Deep down inside himself he knows that if he falls to the ground or lays down now he will never get up, he will die in that nastiness and filth that waits just an arms span from his face beneath him.

“Get up,” the two soft ghost like words surprise him, were they his? They had to be, but he did not recognize that weak broken voice. “Get up you fool, do you want to die here?”

“Maybe” his mind thinks. Back now on his hands and knees he carefully tries to make his body stand.

“NO”, his mind screeches, he quickly sucks in a breath as the pain rolls right over him like a wave crashing on a shore.

“Crawl then,” taking a long moment allowing the pain to recede, his mind gently and resignedly commands him. One pain filled hand slides forcing his arm to follow, then with all his will he makes his other hand and arm move. Moving his head with great care he looks up, his vision is less blurry, but everything is still green, gray and feathery. It makes absolutely no sense to him. As hard as he tries he can get his mind to clear, to allow him to know what has happened to him. Finally he feel his legs clear the edge of the water, but he feels the mud slurp and grab at his lower half. His mind urges him on, “Don’t stop”

“Stopping is dying!”

“Where the hells is he?” his mind is reeling trying to grasp anything that will make sense to him.

“Please,” he softly and weakly pleaded with his mind, “Please remember,” the words barely a breath of sound to his ear.

“Anything please, I know I am a person, but who? What is my name, where am I from? I know I am not from this gods forsaken, stinking, nasty, shit hole.” He thinks, his mind now randomly firing off questions and statements trying to give anything for him to grasp onto. He catches sight of his hand, Dunmer? I am Dunmer. Blue of skin, then I must worship the three. They are the gods of the Dunmer. Weakly he moves his hands, one and then the other, “ALMSIVI” he breaths out. As he carefully follows each movement of his hands with a slight push of his knees and legs.


Breathing hard, he shift his weight a slightly to be more on his legs as he tries to push up with his arms. The pain of his body and the blankness of his mind both attempting to push him into madness and darkness. “What was that?”  

“By the Three, Eein!”

A floating face, but whose? The name it must be mine, his mind whirls end over end, but it’s like wind blowing through trees it just slips passed his mind. “I am E’ein?” The thought is a question of uncertainty.

There before him several faces appear out of the green foliage. His sight sharpening a little now, there are three men now helping him to his feet. So many questions, his mind fights to keep up. The smaller man grabs ahold his arm and slips under it, supporting him and keeping him upright. He hugs Eein close to his body, he is warm and strong. The other two turn and start off through the forest swords drawn and ready for battle.

“Eein I can’t believe we found you, Bless the Three, so many have been lost. Damn these Argonians! They will pay I promise Eein, each and everyone will pay!” The words harsh, and Eein thinks to himself what has happened here, to me. He manages to speak softly so that only man next to him can hear.  

“I am Eein?”

Eein and the man’s eyes meet at the clear question, and the man’s eyes show uncertain worry.