Superwoman and Son

Chapter 1: Arrival

The quiet Kansas night was shattered by a blaze of light streaking across the sky. Two fiery orbs hurtled downward, trailing flames and ash, their trajectory aimed directly at the heart of the vast fields of the Kent family farm. A thunderous crash shook the earth, creating a plume of dust and fire that lit up the night like a second sun. For miles, the glow could be seen, an ominous sign of something—or someone—arriving from the heavens.

In the middle of that fiery crater, two pods had landed. Inside one, a baby no older than a few months old, swaddled in the remnants of his homeworld. In the other, a young woman, her features set in determination, her mind sharp despite the exhaustion of the journey.

Kara Zor-El sat upright in her pod, the glass hissing open as she took in the new world around her. Her body was heavy, still adjusting to the sudden stop after months of drifting through space. Her parents had told her about this planet, Earth, where she and her cousin would be safe. She had left Krypton as her world collapsed, tasked with a mission more vital than her own survival—to protect Kal-El, the infant now lying in the neighboring pod.

Kara's blue eyes, still foggy from her long sleep, widened as she spotted Kal. She scrambled out of her pod, ignoring the pain that shot through her muscles. "Kal..." she whispered in Kryptonian, her voice tight with emotion. He was so small, his chubby fists waving in the air as he blinked up at her. He was alive. He had made it.

She fell to her knees beside his pod and gently scooped him into her arms. His tiny body fit perfectly against her chest, and as she held him, her earlier tension dissolved. But this wasn't over. They were stranded on an alien world, and she knew little of its dangers.

Kara surveyed the area. The thick clouds of dust made it hard to see beyond a few feet, but from the corner of her eye, she spotted movement. Her heart raced as two figures approached through the haze, cautiously stepping toward the crater. She tensed, instinctively wrapping Kal tighter against her.

A man and a woman emerged from the dust—Earthlings, by the look of their clothing. They paused at the edge of the crater, their faces a mixture of awe and fear.

Jonathan Kent, a strong, weathered man with years of hard work etched into his face, was the first to speak. "Martha," he whispered to his wife, "Do you see what I'm seeing?"

Martha Kent, her hand gripping her husband's arm, nodded slowly. Her eyes were locked on Kara, a young woman cradling a baby, both looking so out of place in this rural landscape.

"Are you okay?" Martha called out, her voice soft but full of concern. She took a tentative step forward, her motherly instincts pulling her toward the young woman holding the baby.

Kara didn't understand the words. They were a jumble of sounds, foreign and strange. She took a step back, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Who were these people? Why were they approaching her?

"Jonathan, she's scared," Martha whispered to her husband, sensing the unease in the young woman's stance.

Jonathan raised his hands slowly in a gesture of peace, his voice calm. "We don't want to hurt you," he said gently. But Kara's grip tightened around Kal, her heart pounding in her chest.

For a moment, the silence stretched between them, filled with nothing but the crackle of settling debris and the soft rustle of the Kansas wind. Kara's mind raced—she had to figure out how to communicate. She couldn't afford to be seen as a threat, not when Kal was so vulnerable.

Martha and Jonathan exchanged another look before gesturing toward their farmhouse, standing quietly in the distance. They motioned for Kara to follow, their movements slow and careful, as though approaching a wild animal.

Kara hesitated, glancing between the Earthlings and the pod where Kal had been. She knew she couldn't stay here—it wasn't safe in the open like this. With a deep breath, she nodded slowly, deciding that for now, she had no choice but to follow these strangers. She held Kal closer and cautiously followed the couple.

The farmhouse came into view, its warm glow from the windows cutting through the night like a beacon of hope. The Kents led her inside, the creaky wooden floors and the cozy interior completely alien to her. Kara glanced around warily, her heightened senses picking up every sound, every movement. This place was so different from Krypton, so simple and rustic. But there was a warmth to it, a kind of peace that made her feel, for the first time since leaving Krypton, that they might be safe.

Martha gestured to the couch, and Kara sat down stiffly, still holding Kal, who had started to doze off in her arms. Jonathan disappeared into another room, returning moments later with food—simple slices of bread and a jug of milk. He set them down on the small table in front of her, nodding to her as if to say she could eat.

Kara stared at the offerings, her stomach tight with hunger, but her mind was too preoccupied with figuring out how to communicate with these people. Her parents had told her stories of Earth, but they hadn't prepared her for this language barrier. Every word the Earthlings said was just noise—unfamiliar, frustrating noise.

She needed to understand them. She needed to find a way to make herself clear.

Her hand went instinctively to the tattered remains of her Kryptonian suit, and her fingers brushed against something solid—a small device embedded in the fabric. A surge of hope shot through her. Her father had given her this. It was a translator, designed to decipher foreign languages. She pulled it out, her hands trembling slightly as she activated it.

The device hummed to life, and she pressed it against her temple. A sharp jolt of pain shot through her head, but after a moment, the pain subsided, and the sounds of the Earthlings' voices started to morph into understandable words.

"...what do you think she's doing, Jonathan?" Martha's voice was clear now, filled with concern and curiosity.

Jonathan shrugged, watching Kara closely. "Maybe she's got some kind of technology. I mean, she came from the sky in that thing. Who knows what they have?"

Kara blinked, the words now making sense. The device had worked. She could finally communicate.

"I can understand you," Kara said softly, her voice steady but still thick with an accent.

Martha gasped, stepping closer. "You can speak English?"

Kara nodded, feeling a mix of relief and exhaustion wash over her. "Yes. I... I am Kara Zor-El, from the planet Krypton. This is my cousin, Kal-El." She looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms. "We were sent here... to survive."

Martha's face softened immediately, her eyes full of sympathy. "Oh, you poor things," she whispered. She stepped forward, her motherly instincts taking over. "You're safe now. Both of you."

Kara met Martha's gaze, her eyes hard with determination. "I will protect him," she said firmly. "No matter what."

Jonathan nodded, his voice steady. "You don't have to do it alone. We'll help you. We'll protect him, too."

For the first time since leaving Krypton, Kara felt a flicker of hope. These people—these Earthlings—were offering her and Kal a chance. A chance to survive, a chance to build a new life.

She looked down at Kal, his tiny form nestled against her chest, and then back at Martha and Jonathan. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I think... I think we can trust you."

Martha smiled warmly, tears brimming in her eyes. "You can," she promised. "You both have a home here now."

And so, in the heart of Kansas, under the stars of a strange new sky, Kara Zor-El began to believe that maybe, just maybe, they had found a place where they could be safe. But even as she felt that flicker of hope, her resolve hardened.

She had a promise to keep—a promise to protect Kal. Whatever this new world held for them, she would be ready. She would protect him at all costs.

No matter what.