Voyager Headquarters: Daniel Lang's office

It had been several days since Bogg's recall, and Dan sat quietly awaiting the younger man's arrival in his office. Bogg walked in with a determined stride. Dan noticed that the radiant burns remained, giving the pirate the appearance of sunburn.

"Voyager Bogg, thank you so much for coming," Dan ventured, standing and holding out his hand. "I hope you're recovered. You gave us quite the scare."

"They told me this meeting was a prerequisite for returning to field work, so no thanks are necessary," Bogg replied coldly, his voice began to rise. He ignored the outstretched hand. "What is going on here? I realize I had to be pulled, and that is all the sorts of embarrassing you might expect. But I'm not the first, and I'm unlikely to be the last." Bogg's voice had risen to a yell, his hands had formed fists, and while he knew that mightn't help him, he didn't care at the moment. "Stripped of my omni for that!?"

"Voyager Bogg, I assure you that your recall is not the reason you are not back in the field, at least not directly. You're not being punished," Dan said. "It's, well, it's rather complicated."

"Complicated," Bogg yelled. "You give me the omni; I go out and work to make history right! Maybe here in the ivory tower you don't recognize that!"

Daniel sighed. "We do Voyager Bogg. We do. And your work has been exemplary. We know now that even the last mission's unfortunate conclusion was not due to lack of effort on your part. It was … well, not as it was supposed to be."

"Tell me something I don't know. That's every mission," Bogg replied.

"True enough," Dan might have laughed if what he needed to tell Bogg wasn't so horrific to share. "This will be difficult, but I need you to look at some things."

Dan pulled out the folder filled with news articles, crime scene photos and other items related to Jeffrey Jones. Trixie and Wendy had been busy for several days, reconstructing both this red timeline and the one that should have been.

"Can you please look through these and tell me if you recognize anything?"

The first item Bogg picked up was a photo of a broken body. He might have thought it a doll if not for the "Crime Scene: Do Not Cross" tape around the form. Curly dark hair, a shirt, probably striped, but Bogg could not make out the colors, dark pants and a single sneaker. Bogg noticed the other lay off to the side of the scene. The chalk line was already in place around the body. Bogg felt sick.

"I don't know exactly what happened to him, but I couldn't recognize this if it was my own kid," Bogg growled. "You know, I've been at this a while, and I didn't need the visual aide."

A lump formed in Bogg's throat, and he wanted to run. He didn't want to look at the photo again, and yet his eyes were drawn to it. What had happened to that poor kid? And how frightened must he have been as he fell?

"I'm sorry, Voyager Bogg. Please read the article that goes along with the scene, though," Dan asked. "It's really vital that you understand."

Bogg finished the reading.

"So, an orphan plummets to his death from 20 stories. I'm not trying to say that's not a terrible thing, but what does it have to do with me? My omni doesn't even get me to 1982. I mean, this is an awful story, but I don't see what it has to do with me, my omni or field work."

Now all Bogg could think was how to get this meeting over with and leave this room. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to weep. He wanted to bang a wall in the pure, cold frustration of knowing that this child was dead and there was nothing Bogg could do. None of those seemed likely to get him back in the field, so he just seethed internally and looked warily at Daniel.

"In this case, Voyager Bogg, you were supposed to be in 1982 and in the bedroom of Jeffrey Jones," Dan said forcefully.

"So I was supposed to throw the kid out of a window for a 20-story fall? I know my questionnaire says I don't like kids, but c'mon. And besides, my omni won't take me to 1982; we just went over that."

"Voyager Bogg, please read the details again, and how the police ruled out the aunt and her boyfriend as suspects. I know this is difficult, but we really do need your help on this one."

Bogg frowned. The glass was cut from the *outside* of a 20-story window; a dog was killed, apparently using the same weapon; the child seemed to almost rush for the window; and no attacker was ever heard or seen. Elizabeth Jones said at the time, "It seemed like whoever might have been there just … disappeared."

Bogg looked at Daniel with an intense stare, "You think this was a Voyager?"

Dan's darker blue eyes met Bogg's icy ones: "We do. What we know, however, is that Jeffrey Jones is supposed to be with you, as your partner. You are supposed to be his mentor and a guardian and friend to the boy."

Bogg snorted, "I work alone, and if I had to have a partner, it wouldn't be an 11-year-old kid."

"OK, then," Dan said with a nod. "By the way, do you recall your last words before losing consciousness after your recall from 1692?"

Bogg's head and stomach seemed to roll over, because despite all reason, he did remember. " 'Where is my kid?' I didn't even know what I meant. I was out of my head. Near asphyxiation will do that, you know."

"Or perhaps you were in your right mind for the first time since the timescape was altered. You'll need to think on that. And here is a picture of Jeffrey Jones before his fall."

With that, Daniel moved to leave the room. He turned, "You're welcome to stay here for as long as you'd like and review anything you wish."

Bogg sat, staring at the photo. With his crooked smile that didn't reach the dark eyes clearly still haunted by his parents' death, Jeffrey Jones was a handsome child, and one whose time had been unfairly cut short. "It waits now and then for the boy," Bogg thought, and he started to cry.