Minotaur

“Look! To females maybe is different. Probably is. Whatever. A male worth as much as his most powerful enemy, more or less one penny. We are oriented for confrontation, regardless of race or social position. For females, seems to be more facultative. It is a defining element, the core defining element even, for some lassies. All but completely irrelevant for others. Is not like that for us. A male without enemies is pointless debris in live, occupying space and polluting the view.

In that regard, minotaurs are unique.

Usually sentient, talking, races have males and females. We are perhaps the only case of a race that is entirely only one sex. All minotaurs are males. So, all minotaurs need to have strong enemies.

A minotaur must have bedwarmers too. My people do not have wives, only slaves and concubines for our pleasure, and to give birth to our sons.

All male children are born minotaurs, pure blood members of our race. You can often see some traces of the mother, in some cases is obvious which was the mother’s race, in others is impossible to tell. However, those traces to not change our nature. A minotaur born from an elf bedwarmer will not live longer than one who has an orc for mother. He is probably smaller, a bit nimbler and a bit less muscular, but that is all.

On the other hand, a minotaur daughter is of her mother’s race. Entirely. They may have vestigial horns, ears a bit like ours, very few are born with hooves like their father. In essence, they are normal members of mother’s race. And their children will be too.

We don’t get to minotaur females after thousands of generations of bedwarmers living in minotaur pleasure gardens. The racial traits are not cumulative, from one generation to the next. Albeit, in our cities you do have a long and well stablished culture of bedwarmers, concubines and consorts, to use a somewhat imprecise vocabulary because that is the best I can find.

In theory, as far as our laws are concerned, those women are all ****-property. In practice, we all much, realistically, admit that many fathers, brothers and cousins are not entirelly indifferent to the wellbeing of some of the women born in their families. Perhaps, in ancient times, that was the general sentiment in all houses. And maybe in some other nations still is, but here, we are not exactly isolated from other races here.”

Kind Mr Burjigon was larger than any ork she had saw by one half, and seemed to be a great deal more solid too. Not just a bull in humanoid shape, probably stronger and heavier than any Earthling bulls, except the most **** cases of genetic engineering.

Tennent Lucienne, high commandant of military Emergency Forces of Pelican City had been captured by their enemies, the natives. She was subjected to means of interrogation beyond the comprehension of human technology. After that, she was mostly left alone, free to walk in those gardens, corridors and rooms designated as “Pleasure Garden” of her captor. The fellow who looked like a Dark Elf from fantasy videogames.

She was surprised by how much comfort and freedom was allowed to her. Even if it didn’t included the privilege of wear any kind of clothing. Temperature was fairly comfortable, what was amazing by itself, considering that was winter, the region was very cold, and sometimes she could see snow falling from some windows. This people had some sort of ****-field, so discreet that she could not even imagine where the energy source was.

Strange match to those oil lamps burning everywhere, during night.

Architecture reminded her Medieval China, Japan or Joseon. Far East, some touches of India perhaps, in the intern decoration. A large statue in the garden could be nothing else, it was some Indian deity, for sure. Represented with many arms, tree faces, dancing. Her knowledge of mythology and religion was not good enough to be sure if it was some reference to Earthling religion, or just inspired by a common root.

Few people could speak her language, and according to their explanation that had to do with the cost in “spirit”, magic fuel, in some way.

The causal tranquillity of her captors started making sense when she realized that she could not leave. She was not able to burn this place, attack anyone, or even disobey direct orders. Her “owner” had mentioned to her that she would not be able to kill herself either, or hurt herself. That was the only chains she left untested for the moment.

No physical barrier was present, visible or invisible. Her body simply failed in obey when she tried to do anything contrary to the rules of this house.

The other prisoners for Pelican City mentioned similar experiences.

Whatever technology they had here to brainwash and mind-control people, they called it “magic” and insisted it was the same thing allowing communication between them. Despite the fact that no one here actually was capable to speak any Earthling language, normally.

Was that entirely absurd? That was not a planet in another part of her galaxy. Not even in a different galaxy. That was a different Universe. Far more distant than the places they intended to reach in the experiment. Before they get lost. She could not deny there was something out of ordinary in this planet.

Ever since that incident in Day 8 after they managed to open the external skin of their spaceship and get access to outside.

A reconnaissance team came back with the strangest report.

They had a bulk-5, a light war tank with armour designed to resist the impact of tactical nukes at 50 meters of distance, and direct hits of .20 millimetres mag machineguns. Carries up to 16 soldiers in power-armour, this day they had 8 and only normal armour. But six were special-**** cyborgs with double-skeletons. There was five lighter vehicles too, armours but nothing like a tank. Transporting additional personal, engineers mostly, some biologists. All soldiers, of course, by this point go outside was still a privilege of people trained for war, who had actual combat experience.

They say they saw some animals. Like warhogs, wild boars, But with some bone structure visible on their heads, looking like a Mohican of spikes or a rooster’s comb. Oh, they were as large as African rhinoceros, and their leader was larger than any rhinoceros has right to be, apparently.

Still, no reason for concern. They slowed down, to see the animals. We are talking about military vehicles, with armour designed to survive war. In the context of an inter-stellar society, with plans to became inter-galactic one day. The necessary tools for that already conquered, for most practical purposes.

On the other hand, we are talking about animals.

Big, strange looking, pigs. With tusks.

Nothing anyone should worry about.

When the “papa-pig” took offense in their intrusion too close to his family, and started running to the larger intruder, which was the bulk-5, the soldiers laugh. Someone made a joke. The usual.

The animal was about 20 meters away, when it disappeared. Same instant, they felt an impact that took the war tank from the ground a little bit. Didn’t rolled over, just shacked a little. The impact was in the lateral, frontal right, of the vehicle. No one was cracking jokes anymore.

They shot the animal, with all they had. Didn’t killed it, but scarred them away.

Back in the Pelican, we saw there was a deep mark, from the primary impact. And a second, from the tusk trying to cut through the armour on the side of that first wound.

There was also spikes, deeply buried in the base of the vehicle.

There was nothing out of ordinary in the composition of those spikes. They should not penetrate the material they had penetrated any more than human hair should. The beast didn’t cut through the alloy all the way, but it made serious damage.

A planet with animals like that, certainly was more dangerous than anything in human experience.

However, this remained as an isolated incident. They neither found those animals again, nor other animals as dangerous as the wild boars.

When they found intelligent life, it was large and brutal, but defenceless against their technology.

Now was clear why. Someone had intentionally cleaned a territory around the fallen Pelican. Taking away anything that could represent serious danger for the newly arrived specie.

Someone wanted to be sure that humanity would underestimate the challenge ahead. Behind the next curve. That effort had been rewarded with amazing success, Lucienne was shamed to admit to herself.

Her people in Pelican was still not aware of the reality. And she could do nothing to warn them.

Despite his friendly attitude this minotaur was a military man, and a strategist. Sharp foe, she had no doubt. Probably even more dangerous around a map, planning movement of troops, than in the frontlines. Big and strong as he was.

The real general here, however, was not him. If she was reading the situation right, that had to be the dark elf with metallic fingernails.