Might as well get to business here. The quicker they figure out the details of the plague, the quicker they can figure out the medical supplies necessary, and the quicker they can say goodbye to this backwoods planet and get home.

At least it's just a petrification plague, instead of one that makes you cough up chunks of your insides. Howard's feeling ill at ease. Working in medical is one thing, but a combination of plague and insects killed almost a quarter of the kids in Perdido, and he'd much rather be deployed to deal with combat injuries than sickness.

"What are the quarantine measures here?"