They say to hold your breath when you skim the surface of Jupiter. And wise crews do. Because many wish to play in the parfait colored layers, claim the gravity used to slingshot spaceships out of the solar system would make for good exercise.

But beware, a single misplaced word could summon the images you see in the clouds to you, and take heed Jupiter's clouds are not the stuff of dreams. Whispers on the winds will tell you tales of sunken ships crushed by the planet's depths. Down where the elements you know twist into the unseeable, into metallic heat, where the unknowing might expect the cold embrace of space.

Hold your breath, exhaling a falsehood you thought you knew will bring them near, for Jupiter is were sirens call with their painted lips and warm embrace. Do anything more than kiss the atmosphere, and the storm will whip your ship around before dragging you down into suspended grave none other can reach without the same fate.

This timeless siren's song is one all eager explorers know. Even Odysseus was wise enough to cover his crew's senses with cryo, but the fool did not hold his own breath. Each joke or misplaced belief made them cave to a gravity they did not fear, until there were in a world they did not know. 

But words can also save, so take this tale as you travel the stars. Hold your breath until the clouds clear. There may not be any ground to be had, but there's hope in the open expanse of space.