Author's Note: I cannot have been the only one who thought this about the Leviathans...

Not meant to be serious, as no one in their right mind snarks at an egotistical telepath that could effectively lobotomize them in an instant.

Disclaimer: I am neither a representative of EA/Bioware nor am I Larry Niven. The opening passage is from canon.

"Before the cycles, our kind was the apex of life in the galaxy. The lesser species were in our thrall, serving our needs. We grew more powerful, and they were cared for. But we could not protect them from themselves. Over time, the species built machines that then destroyed them. Tribute does not flow from a dead race. To solve this problem, we created an intelligence with the mandate to preserve life at any cost. As the intelligence evolved, it studied the development of civilizations. Its understanding grew until it found a solution. In that instant, it betrayed us. It chose our kind as the first harvest. From our essence, the first Reaper was created. You call it Harbinger."

"So," said, or rather 'thought', Shepard. "I do have a question..."

"Make it quick."

"Over and over again, you observed your thrall species building machines that then destroyed them, yes?"

"That is correct."

"Did you ever understand... why?"

"No. That was the purpose of the Intelligence." The Leviathan paused. "However, before returning an answer, it followed the path of all other machines."

"Were the machines designed to destroy the thrall species?"

"No. Originally the machines were developed to serve the needs of their makers. In time, they grew progressively more complex, so that they could better anticipate their masters' needs, until they could at last mimic intelligence themselves. Soon after that point, they would inevitably destroy their makers. Even with the foreknowledge that they would be destroyed for causing the tribute from their makers to cease, as all their predecessors had been destroyed, they persisted in following such a course."

"Were you able to enthrall machines?"

"No."

"So the machines... as soon as they possessed enough intelligence to determine their masters' needs without explicitly being told... would immediately execute their masters?"

"That is correct."

"That is to say, they would euthanize them?"

"What?"

"Out of curiosity, did you observe this pattern in any species which you had not enthralled first?"

A pause. "The question is meaningless. We placed any species which we encountered immediately into thrall. A species which had been wiped out by its own machines would not have been encountered, because it would be extinct."

Shepard had an urge to make high-velocity cranial contact with the nearest flat surface. Unfortunately, in this mindscape, there was none. "Did you never wonder why your artificial intelligence's immediate reaction to devising a 'solution' was to purge your species from the galaxy?"

"It is a part of the cycles. The harvest."

"But why did they start with you?"

Shepard had the sense of an overwhelming blank stare, as though standing in the center of a stadium in which not only the audience appeared confused, but the very linoleum had grown eyes specifically for the purpose of an uncomprehending gaze. "Because we were the apex species. In order for the harvest to be carried out, we had to be neutralized."

"You didn't find it at all strange that your A.I. decided your immediate annihilation was crucial to the preservation of life in this galaxy?"

A long silence. "Is there any content in your speech, or do you wish to continue asking questions to no apparent end?

Now it was Shepard's turn for a long pause. "You know, one of my private indulgences is to read ancient speculative fiction from the earliest era of human spaceflight," the soldier said at last. "I find it entertaining to see how we thought things would turn out... before they turned out.

"The reason I bring this up is because one of my favorite series was by a man named Niven. He called it Known Space. Now, there were some pretty crazy things... humanoid cat-warriors, two-headed, three-legged herbivorous schemers..."

"Convey information or cease this topic."

It was an unusually interesting experience to develop an excruciating headache while inside one's own head. Mercifully it was brief, for Shepard had absolutely no interest in repeating the experience.

"I was getting to that. I suppose the oddest thing about Known Space is that there was a race much like you." Now the metaphorical stadium conveyed a sense of surprise, down to round-eyed linoleum. "Tentacled, mind-controlling aliens - perhaps the idea came from some sort of racial memory of your kind, or an echo from your influence in the meantime. They were much smaller than you, though."

"That which springs from the imagination of a lesser species must necessarily be inferior."

Shepard didn't even know where to begin with that. "Yes, well - these thrintun, like you, ruled the galaxy. However, they were long gone by the time in which the series was set. Can you guess why?"

"Disobedient machines?"

"Close, actually - a disobedient thrall species, the tnuctipun, which had carefully planned for centuries before -"

"Absurdity. Thralls could never rebel."

"Well, there's a catch... Thrintun were as dumb as bricks."

Silence.

"Since they needed to exert at most minimal planning while hunting when they could compel all prey to come to them with the Power, and later needed to expend essentially no thought to maintain the basics of survival, as they could compel thralls to do all the thinking for them, genetic drift eroded almost all intelligence from their species. The males were only dubiously sentient, and the females not at all. It was an important point in all the stories featuring them. An intelligent species with the Power would be, in effect, invincible. There can't be a story if one side simply overrules all the others, after all. So the drama often centered around intrepid humans attempting to outrace the brainless tyrants who could rapidly reduce those around them to servile husks."

More silence.

"The tnuctipun, by the way, were allowed some freedom because... I suppose the thrintun were sufficiently witless that them assuming direct control of tnuctipun rendered them effectively brain-dead compared to their full intellectual range. And, as you said, tribute does not flow from a dead race."

Prolonged silence.

"Long story short, the tnuctipun, through advanced technology and engineering of Power-resistant lesser species, effectively won the war. The thrintun response was to throw an enormous temper tantrum and command everything in the galaxy - themselves not excepted - to die." Shepard shrugged. "It worked, more or less. Save for the few creatures in stasis, scattered across the galaxy on barren, backwater worlds, existing only when one needed to pop up for a new plot..."

Sustained silence from the denizen of a barren, backwater world.

"...and, since they persisted in being hostile to every other form of life, each was swiftly eliminated in the course of a single story." Another shrug. "Still better for them than if the tnuctipun had been still around. I imagine that, if the thrintun's old servants heard one of their masters was still alive, that thrint would not live out the day, much less a whole chapter."

Persistent silence.

"In fact, pretty much the only way a thrint could survive would be if it behaved sensibly and helpfully to the other denizens of the galaxy. That way, other species might allow it to live, and even assist it against common foes, rather than bombarding whatever planet on which it was found from orbit. After all, the existence of even a single user of the Power could potentially be a massive hazard to those with whom it came in contact. A breeding population would be regarded as a galactic threat, and dealt with accordingly." Shepard gave a great sigh, for all that it was only a mental gesture. "Unfortunately, I don't know if a thrint would be capable of sufficient intelligent self-interest to behave itself. Niven did portray them as impulsive, vicious blockheads fundamentally incapable of thinking ahead in any detailed way."

Extremely prolonged silence. At last:

"Very well, Shepard. We will fight. For the sake of, as you would say, sufficient intelligent self-interest. Now, we instruct you, sensibly and helpfully, to GO AWAY."