Cirrus read through the case file once more before his eyes trailed back over to the subject in transit. His work as an operative for Celestia’s Covert Ops was usually a little more anonymous than this, and having to deal with civilians on a face to face basis made him nervous.
 
Since when does Celestia assign one of her top surveillance specialists to be a personal escort and guard for this unlikely crew? A sedated librarian, a unicorn nurse, and a hotshot hippogriff psychologist— he would rather ditch this crew, pull down his shades, and lean back for a nap. Either that or duck out the cargo hatch and go flying.
 
Alone.
 
He snapped the case file closed, the brass auto-closure magically winding shut again. There was nothing new to gain from re-reading information that he had already memorized, and he knew it. It was just frustrating to be locked into one of Princess Celestia’s airships, having to play nursemaid in such a slow, cumbersome vessel.
 
“Um. Mr. Cirrus, sir?” Nurse Rhymes was looking over at him again.
 
“Cirrus is fine.”
 
“Yes. Um…” Nurse Rhymes looked at her hooves hesitantly, making Cirrus bite the inside of his cheek. He had probably offended her with his brusque reply. Why could he never just relax and be casual around mares?
 
“I was just wondering—”
 
“ —she was wondering, my dear sir, why we haven’t already arrived at Canterlot?” Dr. Saltz’ voice interrupted tautly as he turned another page in the large volume he was holding, his gaze hardly lifting from the page. “The itinerary explicitly stated that it would be an eight-hour flight.”
 
Cirrus looked from Dr. Saltz to Nurse Rhymes again. The two had hardly said a word to each other. Maybe he could ask the cute mare out once they had arrived? Show her around Canterlot once their business was done…
 
…yeah, maybe in my dreams. Why is it that I am so proficient in covert espionage, but when it comes to ponies of the fairer gender, I can only appreciate them from afar?
 
“Apologies.” Cirrus cleared his throat. “The Captain had to alter our flight path when a feral weather system came in from the northern front of the Foal Mountains. We’ll make the mooring tower in about thirty minutes.”