Cosimia had never talked that way to her mother. She had said similar things in her head when she was younger, but the words never flew so easily out of her mouth like they just did. It made Cosimia wonder and fear at the same time. What other things could she do if she was capable of talking like that to her own mother? Talking back was a huge punishable offense: respect meant everything to people of Saturnus.

"Cosi? Nica? I'll need your help getting through the rings. We are about to cross the atmosphere." Oralie called, breaking her speeding train of thought. She would have plenty of time to contemplate everything once they were drifting in space.

Dominica was already there, murmuring in hushed tones to Oralie about how to go through.

"Approaching the atmosphere," Dominica warned, eyes never straying from the mesmerizing rings above them. Cosimi felt the fleeting yet shock filled sensation of passing through the purple atmosphere. It was cold and warm, soft yet hard. The sensation couldn't be described by words alone.

The rings approached quickly and Cosimia inhaled sharply. They were a deadly kind of beautiful. The spear sharp edges of the rings were almost unseen, completely invisible to the untrained eye. Rocks and large chunks of ice flew past them, in a blur of blue-silver.

"Make sure to avoid the exterior of the rings. They're sharp." Cosimia called out. The edges seemed to gleam under the stars, taunting them. They would make it past. They had to. Cosimia refused to believe that the Dea Kali's plan for her was to end here, proving that life on each's planet was satisfactory. But not glorious, thrilling. What was the point of life if not that?

Oralie moved the ship softly, swerving gently around the floating masses. Cosimia's eyes followed every large piece of stone or ice, inhaling sharply when one crossed them, exhaling when there was no crash. After dodging one more rock, Oralie speeded under the exterior and shot into the vortex of space. Cosimia's breath caught in her throat, but she hardly noticed. So this wonderful, magical, ethereal feeling was freedom. Cosimia felt like twirling and giggling, laughing at the absurdity of all this. She had made it past the rings alive, and she was free. To explore and learn and discover and live her dream. Freedom was an addictive feeling, like alcohol. But it was a feeling Cosimia never intended to let go of.