Simon inserts the rifle and the two empty mags back into the dispenser.
"You probably know more about what's happening more than I do, since you're a, uh, captain. What I'm trying to ask is how is the war going? The television says the war is going great for us, but, uh, prior experiences have changed my views on the subject..."
Homura walks over to the console and taps a few buttons, cutting off the intercom. "It's not going great."
She leans on the console. "This morning I received word that three full Kintharian fighter wings were sent to intercept a single Huitz wing. All but two of them were killed or shot down. They were panicked, young, inexperienced.
Three loving fighter wings and all of them were lost. The very fact that the two of them even made it back is a sign that whoever was in combat with them wanted them alive so they could spread the word. Lower morale."
The Captain sighs. "And it looks like it worked. Not that morale wasn't low enough anyways. This war's been going for far too long. I'm not even sure it's a winnable fight any more." She straightens up, brushing her hair out of her face. "They simply have the advantage in almost every way. It's an uphill climb up Mount Tyran and I think we're all tired of it." She lets out another quiet sigh. "I just hope by the time the war resolves, any of us have a house to come home to."