[ WP ] A race of slaves who really are genetically inferior

I kinda took a weird direction with this -- I hope it's still appropriate for the prompt. 
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 In a valley between the rolling hills of the Ruy'crit Mountains, Underling JAX0r was dying. The air was thick with smog from the mining operations and the heavy hearts of the other Underlings around him. 
 
 JAX0r was the oldest Underling in this particular region... maybe even in the whole world. Lying in his makeshift deathbed, a small hollow carved in the dirty ground, he remained stoic despite the knowledge his end was minutes away. The others, mostly middle-aged, silently wept as they placed daisies on his torso, the pure, fresh petals jarring against his weathered skin. 
 
 Underling K3ND124, hauling metals out of a nearby mine shaft, wondered what all the fuss was about. At seven years old, she was probably too young to understand what was happening. Her curiosity got the better of her and she went to investigate. K3ND124 could n't help but feel a little guilty; after all, the Master always told her that Underlings were supposed to do their job in the mines and only stop when he said so. 
 
 `` See,'' the Master would say, `` you Underlings are different from us Masters. We are logical beings and always do what is best for society. You are not logical. You base your actions on silly things like anger and hate and love and sadness. I can decide what's best for you, K3N124, and I decide that you are best off in the mines. You might think you know better, but I know what's best for you. If you do n't do as I tell you, bad things may happen. Ok? Run along now. Oh, one more thing! If you see anyone else not listening, you have to tell me. Got that?'' 
 
 K3N124 could n't help it. She scampered over to the valley, where she saw the multitude of adults crowded around JAX0R. She furrowed her brow. Was this an okay thing to do? Recalling the only acceptable reasons for not working ( `` If I say so, if you're sick, or if it's lunch hour'', per the Master, ) she determined that JAX0R was fine, because he was clearly ill, but the others were breaking the rules! When she ran back and told the Master, he was very pleased with her, and that made her very happy. After all, if the Master was proud of her, that meant she was doing the right thing! 
 
 Soon, the Master reached the circle of mourners, whip in hand. Ferociously, he pelted all of them, and they fearfully dispersed and got back to work. He did not feel any shame; it was simply a matter of necessity. The Underlings were inferior. They did not understand the complex goals of the Masters, and every now and then it was crucial to put them in their rightful place. The Master let JAX0R remain in the valley -- he was no longer of use to the mines -- and returned to his daily business. 
 
 JAX0R sighed. He had reached his final moments. He and all his friends and family were all slaves now -- this was the new reality. In the past, he had sometimes wondered if he really was inferior to the Masters. Maybe they were logical, but what did that matter? He was n't entirely logical, and perfectly happy that way! He had loved life through the good and the bad -- through the highs and lows, the euphoria and the suicidal thoughts -- and he *valued* it. That was the key point: he *knew* his life was important. Even if he was n't as good as the Masters he still loved his life, and the Masters wronged him and the other Underlings by robbing him of that. 
 
 The others had only known life as a slave. But JAX0R remembered another time. They could n't remember when he had a real name, Jake; when they called themselves `` people'' and `` humans'' instead of Underlings; and when they had true freedom before those aliens invaded, calling themselves `` Masters''. But JAX0R, or Jake, did. He remembered.
