Greg sighed, tapping his clawed fingers on the metal desk as the doctor entered the room.
"Aright, I'm Doctor WOW, you are massive."
"Thanks." Greg said dryly.
"Sorry, just...tall. So...According to Federal law, every Homicide-ball player must have a mandatory physical examination. Part of the Rayth accords signed recently."
"The Hell's a Rayth?" Greg asked.
"Not important, political nonsense."
"Sounds like a cool name. If I have more kids I'm naming one Rayth."
"Alright, so let's start with your pulse."
"Don't have one." Greg informed.
"None at all?" he asked.
"Nothing. Constan flow organic coolant system. Just a steady pressure as long as I stay calm. More of a radiator than a circulatory system."
"Okay...so what is your normal resting...PSI?" he asked.
"Around 20,000 PSI, usually between 9 and 10 thousand Kelvin."
"Is that...high for your species?"
"Well for a guy my age it's expected, Izzy runs around 4700 Kelvin, but she's also digital and Antimatter. Us old Nuke-analogue boys run a bit toasty."
"You're serious...I thought you were organic."
"Organic bio-mech hybrid. Hatched full of implants and nanobots, all the meaty bits grow around it. Living flesh and muscle, fiber enhanced tendons, metallic lattice skeleton, solid alloy spine and skull, Cranial implants, solid state high-voltage arc-memory core. I run about 1600 volts at a given moment."
"Good lord...I don't suppose there is any point taking a blood sample, I'll just assume you aren't on performance enhancing drugs."
"I pretty much AM performance enhancing drugs, and I'm on them too."
"Yea, see that. Adrenadyne levels are...bout 18 times what I would consider lethal. Cortizen levels...zero. Kidneys...don't have them, You have lungs?" he asked.
"Oh yea...in a sense. Pneumatic Hexaflouride banding system."
"What's your...normal breathing rate?" he guessed.
"Most of us have a slow constant exhale, but I was raised by humans, so I grew up taking breaths. It's vestigial and completely unnecessary, but out of habit I still usually breathe about 8 to ten a minute. When I exert myself it goes to an automatic forced exhale venting." Greg yawned.
"Great. This measures your muscle, fat content and BMI." he said handing Greg the device. It sparked and read an error screen. "Who'd a thought...any idea what your stats are?" asked the frustrated doctor.
"Fifty-two BMI, which is considered morbidly obese, but to be fair most of that weight is heavy radioactive elements so I consider myself morbidly fit. Body fat is zero."
"Literal zero?"
"We don't store fat. We don't need to store fat, we get energy from fusion, or if you're a younger model, anti-proton annihilation."
"That sounds safe. Weight shows 650...okay...Height seems to be different than the entrance scan."
"Variable skeleton. Humerus and femurs, Kinda like Pistons that can extend and retract. I usually stand 7 foot 8 due to a slouch, but I can intentionally extend to 8, somewhere around 9 if I go full-demigod mode."
BINABASA MO ANG
Dipshits in Space: Seasoru 7
Science FictionUgh, you again. Takes a lot to offend you doesn't it? Well guess who's back, back again and with an anime cover this time. It's the Dipshits, but this time it's a brand new ship, a brand new additional crew tacked on to the lovable turds you know an...
