Our corporation may be small, but we dream big. Very big.

We dream of a solar system where the station bears our name, M3 Corp Headquarters.

We dream of battles waged and won in our space. Victories that we count as the greatest in our memories, tales we tell new recruits of battles fought over system hubs and unsuccessful attempts tobreak our hold or camp us to our doom.

And we even dream of sad defeats at the hands of overwhelming odds, defeats we take to our hearts and later on in the quiet we commiserate and toast our fallen comrades. There is glory in fighting the unwinnable fight.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. For in the end, we are all dust despite the endless supply of clones. All things must end.

We dream of flaring brightly in the depths of space and having people look to our beacon and say "there is M3" before the inevitable fall of darkness that comes to us all.

We dream of Dominion.