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There was an almost silent hum of electronics that reverberated across the rather sterile room that some young woman was being held in, submerged in a large bacta tank with a patient name missing from the screen at its side. Small air bubbles escaped from the corners of her lips while her cheeks twitched involuntarily, fighting to engage in some urge to provide expression to a face that hadn't moved since the day she left the womb. Liquid trickled in, then, whenever a small gap made itself present between her upper and bottom lips - unable to make their way into her nostrils given the tubing that had a firm seal around her nose and occupied the space inside. Pressure was starting to build in a way that a slowly cognizant mind was having trouble comprehending, a slowly moving weight that was pushing itself against her mouth and ears, and the first prickling sensation of irritation reached for the corners of her eyes.

In all the years that she'd been held in this facility, in a laboratory built during the first year of the Sith Imperial civil war before the first siege of Bastion, this was what anyone who had been watching her would have been waiting for. A sign of life beyond simple brain activity, some idea that this person could live beyond an endless state of dreaming, but more importantly that her body wouldn't need the machines she was hooked up to in order to survive. Everything else, anything more, was little more than a pipedream.

It had been ages since anyone had last visited this room, though, nearly as long as it had been since someone had stepped foot into the facility at all. The Sith Empire had been shattered, certainly, but the laboratory wasn't some government project - it was a family secret, an important family secret. Elsewhere Sith the galaxy over had come to hear the name of the patient kept alive here, just not with quite the same face - a fact that had irked that infamous dark lord to the extent of visiting this slumbering sibling of sorts in order to pettily erase the patient's name from her digital docket to ensure that their shared name would be the Sith's alone. The doctors that had kept an eye on the patient, who likely were less concerned with the name of the person they were keeping an eye on and more concerned with the parents, had stopped showing up ever since a war had made a drastic turn towards the dark heart of the galaxy. Visits from family, too, had dwindled since then - hard to blame them when the other woman out there with the same name as the patient was actually alive.

At least, she had been alive.

The glass that contained her and the bacta she had been submerged in shattered as the panic that came with suddenly not being asleep, as she had been for the last twenty years, overtook her. Shards that could have been deadly were thrown to the limits of the room, at the walls, in every direction except directly ahead of her. She fell forwards, of course, and landed in a heap on a steel countertop that was about as barren as the rest of the room surrounding her. Green eyes slowly opened, vision blurred by the combination of irritation from bacta and adjustment to the level of light she'd never had her eyes exposed to before, and for the first time in her entire life she knew she was alive. She choked out something like a groan or a moan, not quite certain herself, in discomfort as she tried to right herself only to fall further and onto the rubberized floor. Though she'd never laid eyes on the other woman that had shared her name something deep inside of her told her the other Vesta was dead.