From last time:

"Hey, all I'm saying is that any way it comes out, this situation sucks. Say Clark is okay, and he comes back. Suddenly, the world's biggest Boy Scout has been a deadbeat dad, and he didn't even know it. Say he isn't, say he's dead, and Lane's stuck raising the kid all by herself. Chances are, she'll never know what happened to Kent. Let's just say I don't envy her."

Rick nodded in seemingly reluctant agreement.

"And two months ago, if you'd asked me to name the one person who had everything and had it all together, I would have said Lois," Stephanie replied sadly.

********

"Lois, you with me here?" Perry asked. He sat on the edge of his desk, frowning

Lois mentally shook herself and turned her gaze away from the door. She tried to tune back in to what Perry was saying. Sometimes she hated this superhearing. "Sorry, I was a million miles away," she replied.

"I noticed. Something wrong?"

Lois shook her head. "No, it's nothing."

********


New Stuff:

The Roads They Walked Alone Part 6:

"So this is another big day, I guess?" Clark asked as he adjusted the high, stiff collar of his heavy, black mantle. He looked at his reflection in the mirror in his room. Behind him, Zara stood, wearing an equally somber and regal looking black outfit. She seemed uneasy. He was downright nervous. Yesterday, they were voted leaders of the planet, today, they were supposed to get married. He had to hand it to the Kryptonians - they were efficient.

"A wedding, an accession ceremony, a civil war to avert, it should be rather eventful," Zara replied.

"Is it supposed to be this tight?" Clark asked as he tried to fit his index finger under the collar to tug it loose.

"You'll get used to it," she replied.

He turned around. "I didn't put this thing on backward, did I?" he asked as he looked down at the get up they'd put him in.

"You look fine," Zara replied with a smile.

"You, too," Clark said. "I mean, you look good, very...regal."

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"I'm not allowed to say no, am I?" he asked.

Zara shook her head.

"Then let's go," Clark replied.

Accompanied by several guards, they walked down the corridors. Just past the Council Chambers there was a large, well-lit room, where Councilors, officers, and officials had gathered. Clark looked through the doorway into the most sumptuously decorated room in the entire colony. Large, ornate rugs covered the floor, and on the blue walls hung portraits of people Clark presumed to be important figures in the civilization's past. The vaulted ceiling was painted with constellations of stars. Comfortable looking chairs lined the room and at one end, on a raised platform, stood an immense crystal altar. A middle aged man, dressed in a long white robe, with a solemn expression upon his face stood in front of the altar, his hands folded in front of him. Around the room stood others, wearing similar white robes or black military uniforms like the ones the ship's crew had been wearing.

Clark and Zara stopped at the threshold and bowed before entering the room. The room's occupants all ceased talking and bowed in response. They took their places - the guards standing at all the entrances and the others sitting around the room - as Clark and Zara entered the room and walked toward the altar. Following Zara's lead, Clark knelt in front of the altar.

"We are here to witness the rites of union and accession of our First Ministers," the somber looking man in the white robe announced. "As Chief Jurist of New Krypton, I verify the legality of their selection, accession, and union. As they will be united to one another, so shall they be united to our world. As they are bound to one another's service, so are they bound to the service of New Krypton. As they place the other above themselves, so too must they place New Krypton above themselves. As they protect one another, so too must they protect New Krypton and its people.

"Zara, do you accept the duties of union to Kal El and the mantle of First Minister?"

"I do so, gladly," Zara replied. She raised her hands up, her head still slightly bowed. The Chief Jurist delicately removed the heavy silver cuffs from around her wrists and placed them upon the altar behind him. He then opened one of two boxes on the altar and removed the larger, heavier cuffs within. He placed first one and then the other on Zara's still outstretched arms. Zara lowered her hands.

"Kal El, do you accept the duties of union to Zara and the mantle of First Minister?"

"I do so, gladly," Clark said. He raised his hands just as Zara had and the Chief Jurist opened the second of the two boxes and removed the other set of wrist cuffs to place on Clark's arms. They were large, awkward, and surprisingly heavy.

"Now rise," the Chief Jurist commanded. Zara and Clark stood up and turned toward the assembled group. "I present to the people of New Krypton, their First Ministers, Defenders of our Civilization, Servants of the People, and Guardians of a Sacred Trust."

Clark surveyed the room; the notion that he was supposed to lead these people hadn't begun to settle in. Beyond that, it was just surreal. Then again, so was the notion that he was technically married to Zara. He wondered how the Kryptonians would react if they knew that he was already married. He looked at the crowd of expectant faces, all eyes on him and Zara.

Ching stepped forward, a grave look on his face. He held his hand against the tiny communicator on his ear. "Sir?" He broke the solemn silence. "My humblest apologies for the interruption, but we have an incoming transmission over all channels."

"What is it, Lieutenant Commander?" the Chief Jurist inquired.

The color drained from Ching's face. "It is from Rae Et...on behalf of the renegade Councilors...they've denounced the appointment of Kal El as illegal...they've declared themselves outlaw, and reject the authority of the colony over them." Ching frowned. "They're planning secession."

A murmur rose up in the group. "We are declaring this gathering adjourned," Zara commanded, easily slipping into her role as leader. "All military personnel stand by for orders, the Council will hereby be placed on notice - an emergency meeting will be convened post haste." A wave of anxiety washed over the group as the dignified air of the ceremony dissipated and was replaced by unease.

A door that Clark hadn't realized was a door opened up in one of the walls. A man in a black military uniform strode grimly into the room. He immediately turned toward Clark and Zara. "Sir, Ma'am, Commander Talan is en route from patrols in the Outerlands and requests an audience with you to brief you on the situation with the renegade Councilors. It is most urgent."

"Of course," Clark replied. He wasn't sure he wanted more urgent news at this point, but the situation was so confusing he was grasping for any kind of information to shed light upon the recent events.

"Lead the way, Sergeant," Zara ordered the soldier, who complied with a polite bow. He walked through the doorway again, with Clark and Zara in tow. Ching quickly ordered a subordinate to place all forces on alert and followed them. To Clark's surprise, a military briefing room stood empty just on the other side of the doorway. The sergeant requested permission to take his leave of them and exited a door on the opposite side of the room, so that only Clark, Zara, and Ching remained in the room. Unlike the gathering room they'd just exited, the briefing room resembled the rest of what Clark had seen of the colony - modern, utilitarian, and sterile. Bright lights reflected off the metal walls and surfaces. A large conference table dominated the room. Along the walls were communications systems and display screens.

"Apparently the Commander's expeditionary forces took significant fire on their patrols. They were ambushed and suffered some casualties," Ching explained. "Whoever is responsible for the attack had at their disposal heavy firepower, ordinance unlike that which we've seen from the rebels so far."

"What was Commander Talan's assessment?" Zara inquired.

"The attack was planned and carefully carried out with superior intelligence. And the perpetrators were either extraordinarily brave or very foolish, or both."

"Why?" Clark asked

"Because Commander Talan's expeditionary forces are the most formidable among our military and because the Commander is one of the most respected leaders and tacticians in the history of our command."

"And he's a man you trust?" Clark asked, looking at both Ching and Zara. Ching arched a brow but before he could say anything, the door on the other side of the room opened. Commander Talan entered the room with long, measured strides and Ching saluted his superior. Clark tried quickly to disguise his shock and sheepishness. He blamed his gaffe on a combination of stereotype and the fact that the Kryptonian language had no gender specific pronouns. Commander Talan returned Ching's salute and turned to the new First Ministers.

"Sir, Ma'am, I bring bad news," she said. Talan's expression was grim and serious, though Clark thought she looked like someone who was rarely anything other than serious. The Commander stood sharply at attention, a full inch or two taller than Clark. She was slender, but broad shouldered and leanly muscled, cutting an imposing and formidable figure. Her blonde hair was pulled back severely and her uniform was covered in mud and soot. Her gray eyes, under a furrowed brow, surveyed the situation quickly and efficiently. Her features were sharp, angular and hard, mirroring a demeanor that implied nothing of softness. She was beautiful, but in the most intimidating way possible.

Talan was likely a few years older than Clark. Having grown up on New Krypton, she had probably been familiar with hard work, discipline, and sacrifice from early childhood. The lessons of trying to eek out an existence in an unforgiving world had etched themselves into everything from her posture and the measured way that she spoke to her movements, which were graceful and efficient, but suggested conscious control and restraint. Every sane person on any planet would be struck by Talan's appearance. In that, she had one thing in common with his Lois. Either one could walk into a room and command the attention of everyone in it.

"What is it Commander?" Zara asked.

"Synchronized and well coordinated attacks by the rebels. My forces were led into a trap. They knew how many soldiers we had and what sort of arms we were carrying and their attack was planned accordingly. My forces sustained some casualties, two dead, seven wounded, three critically, but the impact on the civilian population was far worse," she recounted the attack dispassionately. "While we were under fire, they attacked civilian installations in the outposts at Ebam. Scores dead, many children. We fought back the attack and are evacuating the survivors to the main colony." Clark thought he saw a flicker of anger and sadness in the Commander's cold, gray eyes, but it disappeared quickly.

Zara nodded grimly. "Do you suspect that the rebels had inside knowledge of our military deployments?"

"I do not know," Talan confessed. "But I am requesting permission to assemble a reconnaissance force to patrol the Outerlands. These attacks were timed, they coincided with several smaller assaults and were planned to send a message to the people of New Krypton. I do not doubt that they were coordinated by Rae Et and the renegade Councilors."

"But we have no information on where they are, do we?" Clark asked. He knew he wasn't going to like the answer to his question. Their situation seemed to grow more dire by the second and he was at a loss as to what to do. Not for the first time, he wished that a Superman enforced solution were possible, but this time, he'd have to solve a major world crisis without the benefit of godlike superpowers.

Talan shook her head. "No, sir. The transmissions could have been sent from anywhere on New Krypton and previous attacks were so dispersed as to give us no indication of where they are headquartered."

"And it's your opinion that the reconnaissance team will be the best way to gather information on them?"

"It is the only way to fight them, sir," Talan replied simply. "And it must be kept confidential. If the rebels are receiving information from within, we must limit their access."

Zara looked at Clark, who nodded slightly. "Then permission is granted, Commander," she said. "All forces have been placed on deployment notice. You are free to call up all the units you need."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Talan said.

The video communications system informed them of an incoming message. Ching quickly prepared the system to receive the signal. A large display came to life and they were immediately face to face with Shai's somber visage. "Kal El, Zara, the rest of your Advisory Council has been convened," he said.

"We are on our way," Zara replied. "Commanders? Please accompany us," she said to Ching and Talan. The transmission ended and the four exited the briefing room, walking briskly down the corridors toward what, exactly, Clark wasn't sure. Zara and Ching, however, led the way ably past the Council Chamber and through the labyrinth of offices surrounding it to another conference room. Around the conference table sat another somber looking group, among them faces both familiar and unfamiliar to Clark. Everyone stood as they entered the room.

Shai greeted them solemnly. "First Ministers, we are assembled to provide you with whatever information and assistance we can. Kal El, you are already acquainted with your military advisors, Commander Talan and Lieutenant Commander Ching. I will serve as your liaison to the Council. This is Trey, your Chief of Staff," he said, gesturing toward a well groomed, silver haired main who nodded politely in greeting. Shai continued the introductions. "General Commanders Goren and Flad, chiefs of the Air and Ground Commands." The two older men in black military uniforms bowed slightly. "Rab Dun, the colony's chief engineer." The thin, middle-aged woman nodded, a grim expression on her face. "And Lieutenant Enza, your legal advisor." The last was by far, the youngest at the table, a woman who was at least a few years Clark's junior. She wore a military uniform and the same somber expression as the others. She looked about Lois's height with dark hair and eyes and soft features that had been unnaturally hardened by a life full of tribulations.

Clark looked around at the handful of people gathered in the room. These were the people who would advise him and Zara as they tried to navigate a solution to the planet's problems. He was going to rely on their wisdom and experience and he would have to convince them of his ability to lead their people. Clark had had the entire weight of a world on his shoulders before, but somehow, this time he felt it more acutely. Perhaps it was because he felt so out of his element, or perhaps it was because he wasn't bringing anything uniquely helpful to the table - this wasn't a problem that a red cape and super strength would solve. He could command respect and cultivate an air of authority as Superman and that made defusing the most complex situations possible, but how could he do the same as Kal El when he didn't have any idea what it meant to be Kal El?

The group sat down together around the table and immediately, they began discussing the current situation and likely next steps. For now, he'd have to follow along, learn the game, and ask the right questions until he was comfortable enough leading. Every waking moment of his two months en route to New Krypton had been filled with mental and physical training for the task of leadership, but he still felt woefully unprepared and out of his league. Thankfully Zara was able to provide the direction and leadership needed. She'd been raised to do it and it showed.

********

He checked his surroundings again in irritation. His source was late and he was tired of sitting on a hard bench outside the Hall of Records pretending to feed the pigeons. Annoying, brainless, little, disease infested rats with wings. Every once in a while, one would get too close, pecking at some invisible speck of nothing idiotically and he'd kick the disagreeable thing. They were undeterred. No matter how many times they'd find themselves on the wrong end of his size twelve wingtips, the blasted things would keep coming back, still cooing stupidly and pecking at nothing.

He checked his watch again. Didn't the darn clerk realize that he was a busy man? He had places to be, sources to meet, leads to follow, or at least, make up. Digging up dirt was both Jerry Schultz's passion and his profession. He'd made a career doing it, and it showed. Jerry had slimy friends in places both high and low. Well, 'friends' was too strong a word. Not one of them would have so much as blinked before selling him out for the right price and he wouldn't have had it any other way. People with scruples were no use to him. No, his relationships were built firmly on a foundation of 'what's in it for me?' Folks who were always looking out for number one were much more predictable and much easier to influence. So long as he treated his sources well, they took care of him. So long as they were useful to one another, the relationships flourished. That's the way tabloid reporting worked. Plain and simple.

He'd found himself in the enviable position of covering all the seamy, tawdry details of Superman's departure. Well, such details didn't really exist, per se, but he wasn't above vague allegations and insinuations that couldn't be proven to be false. The bit with Lane and Kent was just icing on the cake. He despised "investigative journalists." They were such arrogant jerks, so certain they were better than everyone else--above it all. Blah, blah, public trust, yadda yadda, yadda, fourth estate, sacred duty, and all that nonsense. Journalism was a business, just like any other. What Jerry wrote sold. And it made him a lot of money.

He'd almost felt sorry for Lois when he heard about the pregnancy. Almost. Hey, it was still just business and he needed to find an angle to the story. Pregnancies out of wedlock just didn't sell papers the way they used to; especially when the parents to be were engaged and should have been married months ago were it not for the interference of a psychotic billionaire criminal mastermind brought back from the dead in a plot that Jerry couldn't have thought up in a million years. Man, he would have sold his soul (if he'd had one) to nab that story -- even if it was true. Sure, there was the human interest side of it all -- woman loses fiancé, finds out she's pregnant, and faces having to raise the baby alone, all the while hoping against hope that her beloved would find his way home -- but who cared? Stories like that certainly wouldn't send copies of the Dirt Digger flying off the checkout stand shelves and he wasn't writing Hallmark made for TV movies, here, or trying to earn a spot in Oprah's Book Club.

"You won't believe what I've got," a triumphant voice exclaimed from over his shoulder.

Jerry turned to look up at the smug young clerk. "So why don't you say it louder so that everyone knows and that way it's of no use to me and I won't have to bother paying you for it!" he hissed.

Nick sat down on the bench, thoroughly stung by Jerry's rebuking of him. 'Good,' Jerry thought. He didn't have time to baby-sit wet-behind-the-ears court clerks. He wordlessly shoved a manila folder toward Jerry. Jerry took the folder and flipped through the contents. Now that the court systems were all on a single computer network, he only needed to know one unscrupulous clerk in order to get all the vitals on someone - outstanding arrest warrants, criminal records, driver's licenses, the works. Any clerk could forge a judge's signature on a request for records from another office and they'd show up promptly. He looked at what Nick had managed to dig up for him. Birth certificate, driver's license, a couple of parking citations, a record of a jury summons...so far, nothing unusual. Wait a second, what was that? The last item in the stack. A marriage certificate.

Lois Lane and Clark Kent's marriage certificate.

Jerry let out a low whistle. This was big. Really big. Lois Lane and Clark Kent had been married by Perry White the very day before Clark disappeared and just four days before they were supposed to get married for real. Why had they eloped? And why hadn't they told anyone? A slow smile spread across his face. This was good. This would make his copy sing. Really sing. He didn't need the reason for their sudden and secret wedding. The story would probably sell better without it - you couldn't give them all the facts, speculation was 2/3 of the fun of gossip. That, and the story would be enough to put Lane's feet to the fire. The reasons would come out in due time and he might well be in a position to make this a series instead of a one shot deal.

"This is good stuff," Jerry said at last. "Way to not screw up, kid. Check's in the mail as usual." With that, he clapped the young man on the shoulders, got up, and walked away.