Pieces of Other Realities
By Moonraker One

PREFACE – Sixteen Years ago

The evening sky over a crystalline planet shone from two illuminations: the first, the red sun high in the sky, and second, explosions that rocked the nearby atmosphere. Large space-faring warships traded blows back and forth with mighty weapons of energy. Down on the surface of the planet, it was pandemonium; people ran back and forth, scrambling either to safety bunkers or to battle stations. Their robes flapping as they scurried, each marked with the symbol of their families, it was a sea of colors as millions of people took position either for help or for combat. Cannons loosed mighty plasma bolts into the air as combat units flew around shooting down enemy fighters. One specific location on the surface of the planet, however, saw a surprising figure.

A man, garbed in a grey and black military uniform, the chest of his outfit emblazoned with a shield complete with a varied letter Z in the chest, carried a small infant in his arms. He had barely been the father of the girl for two and a half weeks when the largest single frontal assault by the enemy army arrived. As he approached a spherical silvery orb, surrounded by machinery on all sides, several figures approached, running from the halls.

One young officer approached, and then saluted. "General Zod!" he beckoned. "The men need your guidance on the front line! The council demands…"

Zod cut him off. "The council be damned! They know that I know my duties. Can't you see I have pressing concerns?"

"Yes sir!" the officer turned and ran.

The general tapped several keys on a console near a pillar of wires that led to the orb. The silvery surface of the sphere parted like water to reveal a single chamber inside. In a seat he placed the baby, wiping a tear from his eye as he did so. Footsteps could be heard behind him, dainty footsteps. He turned to see a familiar, dark haired figure. "Ursa!" he cried out to her. "Why aren't you in a safer location?"

She approached the orb. "Where is a safer location than by you, dear General?" She looked at the child; her child and his child. "I wish she didn't have to go."

Zod shook his head. "I know it is hard to imagine, Ursa, but we cannot be sure this war won't consume the planet. The Vullur are strong, and haven't lost nearly as many as we." He looked at her with sad eyes, a rarity for the proud leader of the army. "It would be wrong to subject her to a life of fear here on Krypton."

Ursa stifled her emotions enough to avoid her voice cracking. "But dear, that planet Jor-El told us about, Earth," she said, worried. "The people are a violent race, complete with hatred and prejudice."

"I understand your concern, but even still, is it not a much safer place than here? The strife hasn't concluded in eight years, and they've reached our homeplanet." He removed from his jacket a single crystal. "Jor-El has given us all of the knowledge of Krypton on this crystal. He's given us access to the science guild teleporter, and our daughter will reach Earth safely, and when she gets there, she will have as perfect an education as any Kryptonian receives. Also, her powers will develop rather quickly. Perhaps loving parents will find and raise her."

Ursa pleaded with him. "But even Jor-El plans to raise his son Kal-El here on Krypton, staking his bet on us winning this war. Must we do this?"

Zod closed his eyes for but a moment, and nodded. "Jor-El gambles with his son's life. I am not a gambling man, I'm a military man. I bet only on sure things. And I can't be sure we're going to win." He activated the machine. "And besides, if we do win this war, we'll see her again anyway." He began to cry, for the first time since his infancy. "I certainly hope."

The orb vanished in a torrent of electrical current. The general turned to head back to the front line. "Goodbye, my dear Faora. May we meet again on this mortal coil."

CHAPTER ONE – The Present

The morning's sunlight shattered the blissful dreams of a young woman, resting comfortably on a bed lying face down. The brightness drew her awake and she pulled away from the drool-covered pillow. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and rose to a kneeling position on the bed, and looked at the clock. The sight of the clock was like a brick to a plate glass window to shock her. Seven fifteen?...! she thought, mystified at how she slept through two alarms. School starts at seven thirty! She shot out of bed like a rocket.

Acting immediately, with super speed she yanked an undergarment tanktop and a pair of night shorts off, changing into a pair of jeans and a blue short sleeved shirt. Next, she zoomed into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and combed her hair into smooth. Finally, she headed downstairs and devoured a hastily constructed sandwich and cereal. All of this took less than nine seconds. Her mother folded her arms and donned a disdainful expression. "Now, Laurel, what have I told you about being late? And please put your glasses on!"

Laurel rolled her green eyes. "I'm not gonna be late, mom," she countered. "Fifteen minutes? That's a plenty big window. New York traffic's nothing to zip around." She hoisted a thick backpack onto her shoulders.

"I hope you have a good day at school, dear!" her mother said, adjusting her daughter's collar.

The father finished his coffee. "Martha, don't we have to get going?"

Martha checked her watch. She gasped. "We'd better get going Jonathan!" She kissed her daughter on the cheek. "Be careful. You don't want anybody asking too many questions about your powers."

Laurel Kent waved as she opened the door and prepared to take off. "I will be, mom! Dad! See you later!" She quickly vanished, leaving only a momentary blur behind. Weaving back and forth through the sea of cars and people, she made it to the front entrance to the high school in less than twenty seconds. Stopping behind in an alley, she exited and merged with the crowd of students. Ignoring the unwanted attention from several of the male students, she made her way up the steps and down the hall. She hated having to start high school so far away from her last home. Her parents, the Kents, had found her when they were still living in Kansas. They moved to New York after her freshman year of high school so her father and her uncle could start their food distribution business together. Still, she liked being around people, so perhaps, she figured, it wouldn't be so bad.

Her first period class, English, was in a small classroom down on the left, past two restrooms. She filed in, the last one to enter, and the teacher pulled her to the front. "Now, class," she introduced, "we've got a new student! This girl, Laurel Kent, transferred here after her parents moved from Kansas. Let's give her help around if she needs it, because this is all new to her." She looked around, taking note of where everyone was. "You can sit in the fourth row, next to Peter."

She calmly walked down the aisle until she found her seat, next to an unassuming young man with brownish hair. He smiled at her and she smiled back, quickly opening her pack and pulling out the assigned reading material. He leaned over. "Those are awfully big," he whispered to her.

She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" she said, a slight sharpness to her voice.

He pointed to her backpack. "You've got all of today's books in at once, I mean. I can't imagine carrying eight hours of books at once."

"Oh! Uh, I can handle it," she quickly recovered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"I'm Peter Parker." He smiled again. It had a disarming effect.

"Laurel," She introduced. Right then she noticed something. "Got a scar on your hand there."

He brushed it off. "Spider bite. Nothing major."

She turned to her book. It certainly didn't lack in thickness. With her fingernail, she peeled the cellophane wrapping off. Since it was the first day, not much happened other than the introduction of the students to one another and the rules of the classroom being set out. So, as the teacher told about the expectations of the semester, she made sure no one was looking and sped through the entire book in between sentences, while no one was looking at her. After that, it was a simple matter of waiting for the bell to ring and the class was over.

With one class finished, she proceeded to math, then history. After a few class periods, it was time for lunch. Making her way to the cafeteria, she grabbed her lunch and sat down. As she began eating, a young man in a shirt and tie, looking quite formal, sat down next to her. She noticed his positive demeanor and, to make sure it was genuine, she used her enhanced hearing to listen for his heartbeat. It was calm; he was being honest. "So, you're the new girl," he began. "I'm Harry Osborn. Nice to meet you."

"Laurel Kent." She calmly took a bite. "What's with the getup? Are you a member of student government or something?"

This drew a laugh out of him. "Nice one, but no. My dad said I should start the day out looking like I'm ready for anything."

Something about him seemed familiar. When she thought of his name, it came to her. "You wouldn't be…the son of the president of OsCorp?"

He rolled his eyes. "Everybody knows about my dad. I swear, I'm not fond of being connected to Norman Osborn's reputation."

She chuckled a bit. "Don't worry; I'm sure you'll emerge from the shadow one day."

He scoffed. "At least you think so." Within a few moments, both Peter and Mary Jane sat down. "Hey, you guys don't have to crowd around me."

"There's always a crowd when you're involved," Mary Jane joked. "So," she said, turning to Laurel. "You're from Kansas? New York must be a hell of a change."

Laurel nodded. "Absolutely. I'm amazed how tightly packed everything is. In Kansas, there were distances; here, it's like a sardine can. Even though I kinda like being able to go anywhere from somewhere close, the open spaces are something I miss." She continued eating her food.

"Those are some pretty cool looking glasses," Mary Jane complimented. "I've never seen that style of frame before. And those lenses, they look so…different."

"It's actually a new type of lens," Laurel stated. "It's made from crystal instead of glass, and it's much more durable."

"Cool!"

"Yeah, I thought so too." She got up to empty her tray after finishing. The thought of having made friends on her first day gave her a sense of joy, and it helped her overcome her fear of being in a new location. If the three of them seemed so tight-knit, then perhaps, she figured, there were other groups of friends that she might be able to make as well.

"Hey, maybe we can do something as a group after school, sometime!" Harry cried out from the table. In response Laurel turned for a moment to smile and give a thumbs-up.

After lunch, she headed to the class she considered a double-edged sword: physical education. She had practiced control for quite some time, and this class, she believed, would certainly put it to the test. She didn't want to destroy anything, after all. Changing into a pair of athletic bloomers and a short sleeved shirt, she entered the main area of the gymnasium. Several of the other girls appeared to be eyeing her with bad intent; she ignored them.

"I'm not going to brief anyone on the rules of basketball," the teacher explained, "because this is high school. If you haven't learned by now, you're in deep trouble. Since there's an uneven number of you, someone's going to have to sit out." He noticed something in the back row. "Kent! Do you have to have those glasses on while you play? I don't think I have to remind you that the school assumes no responsibility for what happens to them."

Laurel nodded. "I understand."

"Okay, just making sure. Now, count one and two. If the person in front of you is a one, you're a two. That's what team you're on." He clapped his hands. "Go ahead!"

From where she stood, she figured out through math that she was a two, and once everyone figured out their position, she gathered with her group. The first guy to be a two decided he was to be the team captain, and within five minutes, everyone knew a relative strategy. She focused on her own idea, though, because she had more to worry about than they did. Taking her position on the field, she took a deep breath and got ready to start the game.

The groups took off in their respective directions like billiard balls being knocked out of formation. Players moved about to the end of the court with the opposing team attempting a shot. It missed and quickly was caught again. With each person either covering someone or trying to avoid being covered, she saw the girl from earlier in possession of the ball and decided to make a dash for it. Putting speed—but not too much—behind her dash, she carefully outpaced all her competitors by a margin which, while incredible, could seem within human limits. When she saw her target aim for a pass, she ducked between two people and intercepted. Immediately, she saw the team member of hers closest to the basket. He stood quite a ways across the court; she quickly deduced the proper angle and force necessary to throw the ball so it would bounce on the ground underneath a player and come up to the waist level of her teammate.

He saw the ball coming and captured it, turning to take the shot. It sailed, hit the backboard, and fell into the net. Her team cheered as they made their first point. It became apparent to Laurel very quickly that, as long as she maintained her proper focus, her powers could be kept under control, even in exciting situations. It became apparent to the coach very quickly, that, should he be interested in a championship for girls' basketball, he should consider approaching her for a team position. After team two won by a several point margin, he began compiling a list in his head of girls he could cut from the team in order to make room for her.

"Laurel," he said, jogging up to her after the period ended, "you really went above and beyond the call of duty there. Your team wouldn't have won if it hadn't been for you. I have seniors that don't have as much athleticism as I saw you show there. I want you on the girls' basketball team."

She donned a questioning look. "But coach, I thought you said the girls' team was full for the semester!" My team? She noticed him say.

"It was," he stated, "until you came along. You really can blow everyone away."

She weighed the options, and then shook her head. "I'm sorry, coach, but I really want to focus on my studies." An ordinary game was meaningless; she didn't, however, want to cheat at games that counted towards a goal.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Okay, but at least think about it for next year."

She nodded. "I will," she lied. "See you, coach." She headed off to her next class. It was government: a topic she really wasn't fond of. After that, there was Literature and Philosophy, and those two classes, while fascinating, couldn't compare to the knowledge she'd already obtained through her knowledge crystal.

After she made it all the way through her classes, she stepped out of the building, and moved to the right of the entrance, walking down the sidewalk. Sometimes, she enjoyed walking at a normal pace. It allowed her to calm down from the stresses of the day. After a while of moving with the crowd, she made it to her home. Shutting the door behind her, she smiled and set her pack on the ground before sitting down to eat. "Good afternoon," she said.

"How was your first day at the new school?" Martha asked.

Laurel raised her eyebrows as she thought back. "Pretty good," she explained. "I made some new friends. I got an offer from the coach to join the girls' basketball team."

This got the parents' attention. "So, what did you say?" asked Jonathan.

She shrugged as a bowl of soup was placed in front of her. "I'm really not thinking of joining," she admitted, "because after all, it isn't exactly fair to the girls on the other teams. I have advantages they don't." She took a sip. "I got noticed because we won the game of basketball we played in P.E. We won because of me. I severely toned down my powers, and I still guaranteed victory." The thought brought her a mild chuckle. "I guess Kryptonians weren't meant to play basketball."

Martha sat down. "Honey, unfair advantage or not, I don't want you skipping out on something just because you feel like you'll put others off. If they're really good enough to make it, they'll make it. All you'll do is get there first."

"Laurel," Jonathan added, "I hate to sound like a cynic, but even though I moved us here to start a business with my brother, and it's doing pretty good, we aren't rich. I hate to even bring this up, but we're not. Before you know it those four years of high school will be gone, and then college will come around. You have to think about possible ways to get in."

She shot her father a look. "I'm not putting any options off the table," she said. "But I want to be more honest than that. You guys raised me to be better than that. The fact that you even have to bring it up is a bit discouraging." She took another sip, and then looked up. "But I do know something I want to be."

"Oh?" Her mother stated. "What's that, dear?"

She grinned. "A superhero; that's what I want to be. There's this guy going around calling himself Spider-Man, and I'm convinced that he's a high schooler. If he can do it, and I'm more powerful than him, certainly I can do it."

The Kents looked at each other, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, before turning back to her. "Are you sure? I mean, even though Spider-Man seems like he's doing only good, the press hounds him so," the mother explained. "They write such nasty things about him. Are you sure you want to put yourself through that?"

She nodded. "Certainly. I thought of everything. I won't be wearing a mask; if they see my face, they'll be more inclined to trust me. Also, my suit will be bright and colorful so there's a psychological element. Also, it'll have the symbol right on the front; a shield covering the chest with the Z symbol of the house of Zod in it. I already have these glasses which bend light around my face making me look different, that I created just for this purpose. Nobody's seen me without them. They won't connect me to the super me."

Jonathan found himself surprised by the detail in it all. "But what'll you call yourself?"

"Something simple," she stated. Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out a drawing of the costume. "Superwoman. You see? The costume is incredibly simple yet effective: it's a blue full-length bodysuit, covering everything except my head, hands and feet. I'll be wearing a pair of red trunks on the outside, red boots, and a yellow cape. And see? The chest is covered by the shield with the house of Zod symbol, and there's a yellow belt to keep the short trunks in place."

"You've really thought this through!"

She stood up. "Of course, mother! I'm going to be saving people's lives and all. You can't just rush into that." She raced upstairs. When she came back down, she was wearing a real version of the drawing on the paper. "So, what do you think? The glorious debut of Superwoman?"

Jonathan scratched his head. "Dear, it looks a bit…tight. It can't be comfortable, plus, won't it tear if it's that close to your skin?"

She moved around. "It might be tight, but it's very movable." She shrugged. "Besides: I've got an energy aura around my body that makes me almost invulnerable, the suit has to be tight in order for my body to protect it."

Martha smiled. "It looks very prominent, dear. Very big and powerful." She squinted in confusion a moment. "What did you make it out of? The fabric looks…unusual."

She shifted position a few times. "The boots are just painted rubber rain boots," she began. "The bodysuit and trunks are an altered version of vinyl, and the cape is made from an old flag base. I made the belt out of an old leather base. The shield is a separate piece sewed onto the bodysuit."

"You know, dear," Martha said, "I never paid attention before, but now that I'm looking, you really do notice the difference without your glasses. Not only do your eyes look a different color with them, but the light bending effect of the glasses makes your cheekbones look lower set and your face a bit more round. You look skinnier, face wise, when you're not wearing them." She hugged her daughter. "If this is what you want to do, we're going to support you one hundred percent."

She headed upstairs. "I'll be out later," she said. "Right now, I want to study a bit more with the knowledge crystal. There's a project I'm working on." As she got upstairs, she closed the door and picked up a translucent white crystal that sat on her desk. She held it in her hand and closed her eyes. "Crystal, activate," she said in Kryptonese.

"Hello, Faora," a familiar voice said. "You've already completed your Kryptonian education; what do you require?"

She set it on the counter, and it began levitating and spinning on its own. "I know you aren't the real Jor-El, just a simulation, but could you put your artificial intelligence to work on a project idea I had?" She sat down on the bed.

"I could certainly try," Jor-El's simulation spoke. "What sort of project is it?"

"I wanted to build a device that operated on your theory of using specific molecules to transmit information," she replied. "I believe that, even though the transmitting crystals of Krypton don't exist here, I could conceivably use the planet's atmosphere as a gigantic transmitting antenna, using your theory."

The crystal processed the request for a few moments. "It certainly is possible," The version of Jor-El explained, "but you couldn't just use the atmosphere. It would have to be a certain gas, preferably nitrogen, since it is the most abundant. Also, you would have to channel a lot of power for a very brief message, and you couldn't guarantee who'd get it because it would transmit in all directions."

"That's fine," she answered. "I think I know of a power source. And my message won't be long at all. A simple 'Faora is on Earth,' will suffice. How much power will I need?"

"Approximately five hundred kilowatts for a two second message. Where will you get the power?"

"Stark Industries disposes of old portable arc reactors at secure locations. I can reconstitute the burnt-out palladium with my heat vision."

"That should work. Do you want me to start compiling plans for construction of the mechanism?"

"Yes. By the end of the week, I should have enough material to begin." As the crystal deactivated, she put her newly-made superhero costume in her backpack, removing her books, and headed downstairs to leave. She grabbed a piece of buttered toast from her mother and began walking down the street. She pushed her glasses into place. Almost immediately, she began exercising her super hearing and listening for certain sounds.

One caught her ear. Approximately five city blocks from where she stood a former employee of Daily Bugle editor-in-chief J. Jonah Jameson burst into the office wielding a gun. She didn't listen to all the details of the conversation, but clearly heard the sound of breaking glass. Quickly, she turned in the direction of the building and combined her see-through vision along with her telescopic vision to see the middle aged man falling to his imminent death. She hadn't a moment to waste.

In a heartbeat's span, she dashed down an alley, changed outfits, and flew off, leaving her old clothes and glasses in the alley. Utilizing super speed with flight, she dodged buildings as she flew to his rescue. Certain people noticed a reddish-blue streak pass by them overhead, and stared with confusion. In under a second, she got under Jameson, caught him, and then gradually slowed her descent so as not to crush him with G-forces. She sat him down on the ground. "Just a moment, mister," she said. Quickly, she flew up several dozen stories and into the office, catching the perpetrator by his collar, grabbing his gun, and flew him down to street level. "He won't be troubling you anymore, sir."

His reaction was quite different than what she expected. He angrily stood with clenched fists. "Who the hell are you? How'd you catch me like that?" He grabbed his shoulder. "I think my shoulder's jarred. What's going on here?"

She looked at him a bit confusedly. "Sir? I caught you as you were falling out your window. I assume he pushed you out."

"That was after he tried to shoot me and missed! Why didn't you come sooner?"

She put her hands on her hips. "Aren't you grateful that I saved your life?"

"Sure. I'll have the lady in accounting give you twenty bucks for your trouble. I've got a busy newspaper to run and you've got a lousy sense of timing. Now go do what you superheroes do and pretend to save people." He was about to storm off, when he turned around a moment. "Who are you?"

She made a pose. "Superwoman."

He looked at the symbol on her chest. "That kinda looks like a Z. Super starts with an 'S.'"

She gave him an exasperated stare. "It's a family crest."

"Hmm, I guess super starts with a Z where you come from. Really special. My name's J. Jonah Jameson, and you're certainly going to appear on tomorrow's headlines. 'New Super Heroine Almost Kills Newspaper Reporter in Debut.'"

She folded her arms. "Isn't that a bit unfair?"

He laughed a bit. "The world isn't fair, sweetcheeks. Now why don't you go? You're attracting a crowd."

She awkwardly waved at the crowd. "Uh, hi there. I'm…Superwoman. I'm here to help."

An old lady standing around the amazed and moody people pointed. "Isn't that outfit a bit tight?"

"Sorry, ma'am, I didn't have a fortune to make my costume out of," she apologized. She was confused; what was with these people? She'd just saved a man from certain death and they respond with hostility and distrust?

With her super hearing, she could hear all kinds of unflattering statements and questions people were whispering.

"She looks like a Halloween hooker."

"She's awfully…big in the chest. She can't be older than seventeen; you think she's surgically enhanced?"

"She's probably a fucking mutant. She's out to get us."

Frustrated, she cleared her throat loudly. "By the way, people, just to let you know, I can hear every word you're saying. Super-enhanced hearing is one of my powers. Try to keep the mean statements to a minimum, if you please. I am trying to make this city a better place."

Some people looked ashamed, while others were emboldened. Like one man who yelled, "why won't you mutants go away!"

"For YOUR information sir, I'm NOT a mutant. I'm leaving now."

Flying off, her first rescue felt almost like a failure. Yet, she knew she'd done good because a man was alive and another was going to jail. She sped down and picked up her backpack before anyone could see her and then rested atop a roof. She spread out, laying on the hard surface, using her pack as a pillow. Her hearing alerted her to a few crimes here and there, and she'd be off to leave, but she wanted to think a moment. "Why can't people just be grateful," she muttered to herself.

"People are like that," a voice surprisingly said. Almost at once, she stood tall. She turned around to see a figure she'd previously only seen in newspapers. "And besides, you might want to get used to Jameson: he has it out for some of us."

"Spiderman?" she noticed. Curious, she used her see-through vision. Immediately upon recognition, her eyes shot open. "Parker?...!"

This unnerved him greatly. "Uh, I don't know what you're…"

"I can see through solid objects," she answered. "I know who you are."

"That's a bit personal! Secrets are important to me!"

She waved him off. "Don't worry, I'm not going to spill anything." She reached in her backpack. "Besides, if you're the amazing Spiderman, I've got a secret to tell you." She put her glasses on, and the holographic effect activated at once. She could tell by his change in stance that he was surprised.

"L…Laurel?"

She shrugged her shoulders, after putting her glasses back in the pack. "What? Surprised that I'm an alien from another planet? By the way, how did Spiderman get his powers? Don't tell me there's a planet where humans and spiders mate."

He found that statement hilarious. "No, actually I was just bitten by a genetically engineered spider. So, that's your family crest?" He pointed to the shield on her chest.

"The 'Z' is the family symbol of the house of Zod," she explained. "On Krypton, every person wears their family crest on their clothing." She looked past him. "Six blocks that way, there's a robbery in progress. You can make it in time; I've got an apartment fire to deal with."

He snapped to attention. "Oh, right! Sorry. See you in class?"

She kissed his mask. "See you later, Peter."

She flew off. Perhaps being a superhero wouldn't be so bad after all.