[i]They're still at it, still trying to rebuild that old thing... They're petty, but they're not petty enough to target the odd criminal, and that's not meant for me... I really need to find out what's in these cylinders.[/i] An old man speculates tiredly from behind a telescope, looking into the evening sky at a slumbering monster. A sharp ping emits from a device nearby, a small cylinder sits in a larger glass cylinder, the said cylinder is the main support for a black tube and a monitor that pings another two times before the old man can get his finger on the examine pop-up. 

[i]Let's hope it ain't a weather forcast for Corellia again, or meteorlogical reports on Hoth... thank you First Order for your nice present of a... Oh goodness it's a home delivery to next door.[/i] The Old man muses, his wit turns to pure dread at it's location, a bunker yonder upon a cliff shines into view. [i]What the hell is going on here? An order like that and a... maybe a drink'll waken me up a little.[/i] He again speculates, after his little drink he reviews the order for the bunker, again and again it tells it's same order... 

The metaphorical Phenylpropanolamine and Amantadine run through the codger's noggin... [i]Welcome back, Kyle.[/i]