Atop the various Imperial Intelligence entities sits the Ubiqtorate, an anonymous controlling hand behind the activities across all divisions with a special hold on the branch of Adjustments. Adjustments is a branch dedicated toward top secret missions, and adjustment agents were given direct orders verbally by the members of the Ubiqtorate directly. While the actual makeup of Adjustments was highly classified, their operators ranged from high-level black ops teams to singular agents known as Ciphers. Ciphers were considered some of the Empire's most dangerous and deadly tools outside of the Inquisitorious. Precision scalpels that remove the most dangerous of threats.

Back on Coruscant, in an unassuming building controlled by the Intelligence community, one member of the Ubiqtorate sits in a chair with their face concealed with the assistance of specialized devices. Room darkened, a small line of light coming through around the edges of a covered window the space was arranged alike a simple office with all the basic furnishings. A couch, where Cipher 6 is currently sitting, is just to the side of the entrance. While directly in the middle of the room the member of the Ubiqtorate sits.

"Debriefing finished, Cipher 6. Return in twenty four hours for your next assignment," the voice says, it is calm and cool. Male in it's origin but that could easily be a mask as anything else in this room. Whoever they were hardly mattered anyway.

Raising her hand up in front of herself so she could look at it, Cipher-6 double checked the quality of her nails. They were worn a bit, not tended to for some many hours since she dropped the cover some time ago and returned back to Coruscant for the debriefing. Everything about her usual attire was changed to blend in enough and arrive here, pinks and blues watered down to browns and greys. Though she didn't die her hair, that was kept but now under a hat. Everything was washed away save for those nails which still held to the last of the paint. However, it wasn't the quality of the nails she was really checking just the reminder of the night she'd gotten them prettied up for and how long ago it'd been. Pink polish worn away by activity and living, a soft sigh as the memory flashes past. A heaviness to that sigh, the tone of it, which ignites a little in her belly.

Looking across the other arm rested on the back of the couch she looks to the man whom appeared featureless in the room with her. Glancing down from the possible eye contact, a breath, and then back to him, "May I submit an appraisal from the field, sir?"

"You may, Agent. Your expertise is always valued," the man allows, a brief nod to his head in her direction. Bringing his hands together in front of the desk in a manner to which he expects will show she has his full attention.

An exhale, Sofia shifts in the seat first and then stands. Walking to the middle of the room she faces the faceless man before her. Arms crossing over her chest, "From my time among them I believe that the main targets, Prayton Saxon and the traitor Jyrvess Ertil are the only threats present within the group needing elimination. From what I've seen, the others of the enclave are tight knit but do not possess the dangerous tendencies of their leader. Remove the head, and the problem of the enclave and the stability in the region are bound to return to normal."

"It's.. even my belief that rather than continuing to be a dangerous element they will instead become the opposite, and offer more stability to the region than if they were all eliminated. Their group has individuals that I believe, given the right incentive, could be directed toward matters which more directly harm the greater good and security of the Empire," she speaks, her Coruscant-born accent coming through within the reported appraisal. Arms steadied against her check she matches a gaze with the faceless shadow of a man before her.

Leaving her in the dark for a minute, maybe two, the voice finally shifts in his chair and speaks again, "Your appraisal is noted, Agent. We will resume contact within 24 hours to grant your next assignment," he says, shifting his hands into his lap as.

"That will be all, Cipher 6."

Sofia stands there for another thirty seconds, words held down in her throat. Tension rising a bit she smiles to disrupt it, nodding her head and then turning to leave the room calmly but quickly.