[b]"All in, and calling. Three Asari matriarchs and a pair of rachni."[/b] The cards hit the table in a clatter, in the low smoky light of the Ward back room. Games like this, where a lot was on the line, most people favored analogue over digital. No-one could hack into slips of thick card. 

The atmosphere in the room was tense, made all the more thick by the low red light and the choking cigar smoke. The two turians, a batarian and three humans eyed each other over the pot. Harken Calibos sat back after playing his hand and checked the time. Who would be first? 

As if on cue, the house of cards began to topple. "I fold." said the first human, a middle-eastern man with a shaved head and thick, dark stubble across his lantern jaw. He put them face down, casting his eyes down in a gesture of low shame. When he looked up to catch Harken picking up on the gesture, he tried to cover his tell - but of course, it had already been too late. Then one of the turians followed suit, casting aside a pair of vorcha. Brave, to have gone so long with a hand that weak. But then surrender wasn't quite the turian way. 

One by one, they fell away and made excuses to leave the table, cut their losses. This had been a high stakes game, but everyone was adults here. But Harken's source of concern, that was the one remaining human and the batarian. Both were angry. He honestly wasn't sure which was uglier. The human, an American male, Caucasian, he knew to be connected to Cerberus. The batarian was just a batarian, from the dossier he'd gotten on the major players in this game. [b]"Well, gentlemen? Time to show your hands."[/b] he crooned smugly. 

The batarian broke first and said something truly foul in their grumbling language, storming out after tossing his chair to the side and making disparaging remarks about the parentage of half the Turian species. That just left Harken and the human, alone in the room. "You think you're hot shit, birdface?" The human snarled.

[b]"Not particularly. But I know something you don't, Mr. Garrick."[/b] That got Garrick's attention. He'd not been going under that name for the game. Garrick reached for his gun, but Harken was faster, knocking the table up and into the human's legs, blocking Harken from view. Garrick cursed, falling back and spraying into the metal of the table, unloading round after round in blind fury. But with all the light and noise, he'd lost track of his target. Harken decloaked to kick the gun from Garricks hand, then backhanded him hard across the face with his pistol. He felt teeth loosen in the human's jaw and he spat blood. [b]"Citadel Security. You just got stung."[/b]

The Commissioner wasn't happy when the word came down about the Spectre job. Undercover operatives were valuable and Harken was one of his best. But the orders were coming from the Council, the same Council that had managed to avoid getting bombed thanks to Harken's undercover operations. And with an active case on his desk, there were no pretenses to keep him away. And so the paperwork went through quickly. 

On the day, Harken wore the union jack proudly across his face as he paced up the steps towards the Council chamber. He'd not been able to wear it during the undercover work, which had left him feeling naked, but now everything was going according to plan again. The councilors were lined up with the other potential Specters, going down the line by name. When it came to Harken, he saw Vakarian's mandibles twitch uncomfortably. To a Turian, facial markings were a like a declaration of nationality, a wearable history, and he clearly was a bit nonplussed by Harken Calibos'... unorthodox choice. 

"Detective Harken Calibos, of Citadel Security's Special Crimes Division." He read, trying to keep his voice passive and even. "During your time in the Turian special forces, you were a valuable special operative. Your work behind enemy lines against the Blood Pack was of extreme strategic value - what little has been de-classified, at least. That is, until you left the military to spend several years as an unemployed drifter, as far as our records show. Care to comment?"

[b]"I drifted to Earth, sir. It's where I was born, my home. Hence the facepaint."[/b] 

"Palaven not good enough for you?" Another mandible twitch. Apparently Turian pride was getting a bit sore, so the Asari councilor stepped in.

"Your... cosmopolitan past is part of the reason you were selected for this diverse team. Your C-Sec record also speaks highly of you, detective. You have our gratitude for bringing the Cerberus cell to justice. Not many officers have the skills needed for undercover work." She cast a look at Vakarian, the kind of look that says 'stop being so stupidly proud'. "Let's not waste any more time. As dangerous as the Blood Pack or Cerberus' sympathizers were, if you accept this offer you will find yourself in more danger than you ever imagined. Do you accept?"

Harken puffed out his chest and clicked his mandibles. [b]"I do."[/b]

"Then by the authority of the Citadel Council, I welcome you to the Specters." She waved a hand and Harken's omni-tool pinged him to confirm the new statuses that had just been unlocked. [i]Interesting[/i], he thought, as he stepped back to take a look at some dossiers that had just been sent to him - the rest of the team, it seemed.