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"Transport CH-42, this is Tannman Control. Please advance to transport position and state your mass."

Ren scratched behind one of his large, triangular ears and keyed in a course to jump position, then answered. "Tannman Control, CH-42. Roger, moving into position. We are running three-five-two-eight-six point seven-three tonnes."

The comm keyed up again. "That you, Ren? It's Brix."

The red wolf's tongue lolled out of his mouth in a grin, and his tail thumped the seat. "Well met again, gate keeper! What's it been, eight months?" He hit the button for video. They didn't need it for most comms, but it was a handy feature if you wanted to read who you were talking to, or see an old friend.

There was a short delay, and then a black wolf looked at him from the small display. His ears were perked, and there was a hint of a friendly sparkle in his eyes. "I think it has, you shaggy old mutt! What have you been up to? Broken any new hearts, lately?"

Ren couldn't help but laugh. Brix had to be the most animated gatekeeper Ren had ever run across, for he seemed to love his job in a way most didn't. "I'm as pure-bred as you are, and you know it! And as to your second question, a gentleman declines to answer."

At the other end of the link, Brix slapped his desk and barked out a laugh. "Ha! That's a yes, but I'd wager you're flirting with feeling bad about it!"

Ren glanced at the ceiling, ostensibly checking the switches up there as his ship drifted in to jump position at the gate. The computers did all the work, between his ship and the gate's, but it gave him an excuse not to answer. "Ah, I read jump position now, Tannman."

Brix's tone flipped back to business in an instant. "I copy, CH-42. I see the same. Commencing jump sequence now." There was a pause. "Initiated." On the display, Brix leaned back in his chair. "Thirty minutes to jump. So! Have you heard the news?"

Settling into his own seat, Ren shook his head. "Nope. What, you get a promotion?"

Brix shook his head, and he seemed fit to vibrate out of his seat. He had always had too much energy. "Better! My wife has just given me a pup! A son! Can you imagine?! A little Brix-and-Kath running about?!" Then he was digging in his pocket for something. Ren could only imagine it would be puppy pictures.

The red wolf shook his head and leaned in towards the display in anticipation. "A son, is that all that you've done?" The prick of his ears and the grin on his muzzle betrayed him to the wolf at the other end of the display, and the thump of his tail on the seat betrayed him to himself.

Brix simply laughed and held up a couple of prints. On them, a grey wolf bitch was cradling a grey pup. In one, she was focused on the pup, who seemed to be laughing, while in the other she was smiling at the cameraman. "Is that all? Is that all?! It's only the best thing a man can do, you mutt!"

Ren had to admit, they were a gorgeous pair, even if their ears were a little small for his tastes. He gave the camera a wide, open-mouthed grin. "I don't know about that. I saw the Delaney sisters the last time I was through New Manitoba. They're half-gee gymnasts, you know? Man, the things they do after hours! Now that's tough to beat. They have this little trick with their tongues, man, where they -- "

The black wolf cut him off. "At least they're still speaking to you! But I'm happy with my wife, Ren. She's beautiful, my pup is beautiful. I wouldn't trade them for a planet full of Delaney sisters."

Ren kicked back. "Oh man, what I would do with a planet full!" He shook his head. "No, that might be too much. Maybe. Still, Brixie, not a bit? You don't get bored with the same woman all the time?"

Brix chuckled and shook his head. "Hell no! Kath keeps me on my toes, and I'm sure Sehn will double that! Besides, don't you ever feel lonely there? A new girl at every port, a couple sisters who don't really care about you in Manitoba. Isn't it all pretty shallow?"

The red wolf shrugged. Brix had a point. "Sure, maybe. Doesn't mean it isn't fun. I can't imagine settling down, anyway! Always somewhere else to go, some new stars and constellations to see. A fresh face winking at me across a new bar. It's the little thrills, man."

"Oh, Ren, Ren, Ren. That captain's chair's a fetter, sure as any docking clamp, and in it you are tethered to the stars!" He sat back and sighed, looking at the prints absently. "I wouldn't trade an hour with them for your whole life."

It was Ren's turn to shake his head, and his big ears wobbled comically. "Have it your way, Brixie. I'm off to the Southern Cross. A full cargo of oils and teas and gadgets, a fat bonus on prompt delivery, and some cute bitch just waiting to be met in the port bar! It's a great life!"

"It's a life, Ren, but I don't know as I'd call it a great one."

Ren could only chuckle. "Each day you tend this gate, Brix, you're another day older, and your blood's another day colder. Me, I'll be keeping it warm and fresh, with someone warm and fresh."

Brix grinned, his pink tongue standing out against the grey of his uniform and the black of his fur. "Have it your way, Ren." He sat up. "Well, looks like our time's almost up, and I have a few things to do before jump. Enjoy the Southern Cross, you rangy mutt."

The red wolf returned the grin. "You know I will. Send my regards to Kath and your pup." He cut the display. Everything from there would be plain business, anyway, and he didn't need vid for that. Just another voice in his ear.

He flipped a switch, then keyed up his mic again, knowing his voice would echo through the habitable parts of the hull. "Fellow spacefarers of the Nathan Garnet, this is your captain speaking. Batten down the hatches and prepare for jump."

The hatch behind him opened, and he could tell from the gait it was his second mate, Zeke Mallot. Ren looked over at the jackal. "Great timing, as always, Zeke."

Zeke raised an eyebrow over his narrow muzzle as he buckled himself in. "Of course. Any rate, heard you yapping, figured I'd let you catch up with Brix."

Ren buckled himself in, and turned his attention to the panel in front of him, flipping on the safeties on the Garnet's FTL drive. Wouldn't do much harm to Tannman gate, but he didn't fancy scattering himself and his crew across most of the known universe and who knows what of the unknown if the drive was on while the gate jumped him. He responded as he watched the drive spin down. "You know me too well."

The jackal was focused on his own part of the pre-jump checklist. "Every time we pass through Tannman, Ren. I think you've got a crush."

Brix saved him from having to come up with a reply. "CH-42, this is Tannman Control. The gate is charged. Declare ready status."

The ship gave a soft shudder as the FTL drive shut down, and the gravity fell away a moment later. The display declared in green letters, GATE JUMP SAFE. "CH-42 is Gate-Safe, Tannman."

"Copy that, CH-42. Syncing now. Jump in fifteen seconds. Godpseed, CH-42. Tannman Control out."

Ren's display had indeed started counting down towards jump. "Our thanks again, Tannman. CH-42 out." He keyed the internal mic. "Ten seconds to jump. Hope you're strapped in, boys."

Zeke gave him a familiar, exasperated look. Zeke maintained that Ren was too casual with the crew, but Zeke had been in the Navy, so what did he know? Ren ran his ship as he saw fit, and he didn't have too much trouble for it. But he didn't mind. The jackal generally had good ears for a bargain, and a wicked sense of humor when he had a mind for it.

Ren watched as, outside the cockpit glass, not even a hundred meters from his precious CH-42, Nathan Garnet, the gate shimmered into life, and the swirling, brilliant blue-white energy reached out towards his ship. When the display read one, the gate energies slipped around the Garnet, enveloping it entirely and flooding the cockpit with light. At zero, an observer would say the gate collapsed and the Nathan Garnet vanished, while Ren and his crew felt a sudden shove into their seats, then a sudden lurch forward, and then found themselves at the Canol Gate, comfortably settled at the L4 point between Whitehorse and its primary, Yukon, which itself sat at the confluence of a pair of trade lanes known as the Southern Cross.

They both recognized the view, and the computer's display had changed its link to Canol Gate but Zeke shot the stars to double-check. He was like that. "Looks good, Captain."

Ren rubbed his paws together, then flipped the switches to warm up the drives. "Excellent. Let's go make some money."