[b]"Merely those who would not have the nerve for this kind of work anyways, dreamer. And frankly, it is my business. I won't see my teachings go to waste because you lose yourself to those again, and someone makes a canoe out of your head. Clear?"[/b]

That was the closest the older sniper would get to showing concern or affection on a usual basis. Atreides wasn't the sort for that kind of activity, and as she claimed first watch and continued on about him going ahead and forgetting about the day dreams, his head lifted and turned to the side, seeming to dismiss his apprentice for a few moments. He then unslung his rifle, checking to make sure it was loaded and ready for engagement. He heard the patrol craft before he saw it, which was not surprising considering how loud those things tended to get on a usual basis. Not too far off either, from the sounds of it, and he gave a brief aside to Sable before vanishing into the surrounding rubble.

[b]"Patrol craft, probably a full compliment. I'll clip her wings, soon as I find her. You stand by to start nailing soldiers. Seems our little stunt got some attention after all, eh dreamer?"[/b]

The Colonel vanished into the rubble and woodwork of the doomed landscape, not even a ghost amongst the rubble, moving to avoid even giving the illusion of a spirit, long dead and gone, moving through the landscape. They wouldn't send rookies this fast, not the system he had rebelled against. No, a high profile hit like that would warrant the corperations demanding some good, well trained men be sent in. So he wouldn't treat them like fools or rookies. He never did, but now was more so a reminder of this then ever. He settled in an almost uncomfortable looking position, staring at the horizon through his binoculars, the scope of his rifle far too narrow to scan with readily. Before long, he caught sight of a familiar craft. Fast moving shuttle, low flying to prevent detection, smart in all senses of the word. But when hurtling right towards a sniper who had been applying his skill for the better part of well over 40 years, one saw a suicidal desire in that approach.

Setting his rifle back out, the aging Colonel zeroed his sight in on the fast moving shuttle, taking into account windspeed, velocity of both shuttle and round, likely composition of the front screen of the thing, rotation of the earth was negligible at this range, and other various factors one might have to worry about. Drop included. Breathing steadily, his mind zeroed in on the zone, as some called it, where everything seemed to crawl to a standstill, and a squeeze of the trigger sent the round out the barrel, recoil kicking into his shoulder as he watched the round fly outwards, losing tracking of it. The shuttle pilot would not see it coming, but the rest of the shuttle would no doubt realize what had happened to their pilot when that ride got a whole lot bumpier from the sudden loss of pilot. He exhaled, sounding off over comm to Sable.

[b]"Pilot is KIA, watch the shuttle for survivors of the impending wreck. Let me know what you see, I'm relocating."[/b]

And with that, Atreides vanished into the rubble again, intending to move to a new spot rather than risk detection from using a second shot from the same spot, even if the odds of them realizing where it came from were next to nil. No taking unnecessary risks and chances, especially with so few of them around rebelling.