Still wearing their old-style burgundy uniforms, Josh, Kramer and T'Katha stepped back through the Guardian's portal which had appeared precisely as it said it would when they requested it.
Stepping out, a quick glance confirmed they were back on Pemra-3, presumably back in the twenty-fourth century, hopefully the way they remembered it.
Josh felt a bit woozy. Whether it was from the effect of traveling through time and space, or the beating Kalor had administered, he could not be sure. Panting, he sat down on a boulder not far from the Guardian.
A look of concern on her face, Kramer came over to check on her captain. She noticed he was bleeding from a small cut above his eyebrow, but otherwise appeared fine. "We should get you back up to Sick Bay and check you over, sir," she said.
"You'll get no objection from me," Josh replied. Picking up his communicator – which they had left behind – he tapped it and called out, "Travis to Constitution."
There was no answer.
Furrowing his brow in concern, Josh tried again. "Travis to Constitution."
Still nothing.
"Travis to any Federation vessel," he tried.
Silence. Kramer tapped her communicator. "Kramer to any Federation vessel. Please respond."
Silence.
"T'Katha, scan the region around us. Verify that the fleet is where it should be."
The Vulcan woman did as Josh asked, then answered, "I am afraid I cannot, Joshua. Nothing has changed since the last scan I completed."
Josh shut his eyes and sighed in frustration. Something had gone wrong. Time had not been restored.
They had failed.