Flicker closed his eyes as the T-Hub was established, a little shudder running through him.  It wasn't something he'd ever much liked.  Just because you were a psychic yourself didn't mean that some of the powers of the others didn't still freak you out a little.  He<em>knew</em>Ratchet was careful not to read anything deeper, and to make sure no one else could either, but it was still a rather horrifying thought anyway, to have someone picking through all the things in the back of your head that you didn't want to think about yourself, let alone have someone else know.<br/><br/><em>Confirmed</em>He responded to the Hub being up, then flicked his eyes toward Ratchet's as he announced he was bringing the power armor.  One eyebrow raised very slightly, but Flicker nodded.<em>Just keep it in your pants, Ratchet.  Don't go all Destroyer of Worlds on us.</em>Was his only comment.<br/><br/>He straddled the seat of the OG and planted his right palm against the basic readout screen it had.  Nano-probes extended from the ports that opened up all along his hand, and as the first made contact with an electrical relay inside, he slowed down the world around him.  Now he could see every strand of hair fluttering in the wind, watch its exact arc dance slowly back and forth, every breath seemed to come minutes apart.  His mind exended down into the transport's computer, the much more powerful one in his cybernetic arm infiltrating it, sizing it up, cloning it, getting to know every last 1 and 0 that made it tick.  Then it was done, and he was as intimately aware of every function of the stealthed bike as he was of his own heartbeat and blinking.<br/><br/>Time resumed its normal speed again, all of that had taken only the blink of an eye to the others, and he patted the seat behind him with a nod to Lonesome.  Once she was in place behind him, the powerful machine's systems quickly spun up to life without him needing to touch the controls further, his hands just resting lightly on the bars for balance.<br/><br/><em>Don't worry, EE.  We won't be high up for very long.</em><br/><br/>The RPM of the engine was like his heartrate.  The speedometer and altimeter were his sense of balance, and he knew the second the engine had peaked into red-line.  That was when he burst out the bay of their transport and into the night below, engaging not only the craft's stealth systems but his own, a blue ghost-light flickering over his body until it disappeared from sight, probably leaving Lonesome feeling... well... a little lonesome.<br/><br/>He angled the bike downward at just short of suicidal speed, knowing its every in and out, knowing exactly how hard he could push it, how fast he could get them to the chosen drop zone, without putting either himself or Gunny behind him in danger, and that was exactly what he was doing, wind whipping around them as they dropped rapidly and silently through the night toward the ground below.