The sound of the waves crashing on the shore brought Tra'an to wakefulness slowly. His fingers gripped the sand slowly as he raised his head and found himself confronting a tropical climate with naught but his lightsaber, a holoreader, and a strategically placed sheet, to provide shade from the glaring sun.

The sand was warm, but not brutally so, having been kept in the shade through the heat of the day. It was pleasant, and a surprise to find himself alone in the middle of Force forsaken nowhere. As he stretched and considered his option, it occurred to him that it had been some decades since he had taken a real vacation and just relaxed.

Between running Plagueis, and before it growing to power within the Brotherhood, he'd had very little time of peace and quiet to enjoy reading. As he picked up the holo-reader, he determined that it was filled with enough material to keep him busy for months, just enjoying the backlog of historical and fictional tales he had accumulated.

Idly, he wondered if he should bother trying to escape what was obviously meant to keep him sidelined from the activities at hand in the Brotherhood, as people jockeyed for power with hopes of the death or removal of Sarin.

Afterall, many people coveted the hope of being named Deputy Grand Master to Mav once Sarin was out of the picture. The lure of power and prestige was too much for some people. As he settled back to read, his only regret was in not having a bottle of Whyren's to enjoy. Though, he mused, at least he wouldn't have the agony of finishing the bottle and not having more. That, after all, was true torture.

As the sun continued to move across the sky, and the waves up the beach, Tra'an lost himself in time, far away from the worries of the Brotherhood.