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The wind whipped into his face, spraying ocean water on it as Castiel stood on the bowof his ship. The Geogiana tipped and swayed in the sea. It was a windy day, so his ship was making steady headway on it's journey to drop off supplies to a navy port. Castiel's crew bustled about him. They were 4 days from port, and most of them were becoming restless, wanting to spend at least one day on shoreleave. As the mist cooled his face, he let a small trace of a smile play across his features. This was where he belonged.

Supply runs like these usually only took a couple of weeks, but Castiel had been given a special mission. Not only was he to diliver some special secret cargo to the largest and most important navy port on the eastern seaboard, but he also had the privelige of making one of the longest and hardest trips available for a captain as of little importance as himself.

He puffed his chest up a little as he thought of how important his task was. He hadn't been told what the cargo was or why it was so imperative that it be protected at all costs, but he knew that he had been specially selected for the job.

Michael had summoned him particularly because, frankly, his ships was one of the least important in the fleet, and the most likely to be ignored by roaming scumbags and pirates.

He had been promised that if he succeeded in this mission, that he would be awarded a raise, and a new ship. While The Georgiana was a sturdy ship, and hadn't given him many problems, it was still small, and traveled much slower than many of its cousins in the fleet.

"Sir reaching 60 knots, we're still against the current, and the wind seems to be changing directions again. This could set us back at least a week. What do you say?" Castiel's first mate aproached him.

"Turn to starboard and sail into the wind. I know this area well. If we detour slightly east we'll be able to skirt this current and at least make it in a week." Castiels gruff, low voice caried over the sound of waves hitting the hull, and wind flapping in the sails.

The crewman nodded and headed back to the navigator, shouting instructions at a few men here and there.

Castiel didn't mind. He trusted his crew more or less. His first mate could get bossy, but he always confered with Castiel before doing anything, let alone giving out orders. Plus it gave him time to think. There was nothing Castiel loved more than standing at the bow of his ship, feeling the wind in his hair, thinking.

Many years ago, when he was just starting to learn the trade of the sea to become a merchant like his father, Castiel was walking through a busy port and came across an old man. He was talking animatedly to a group of sailors who were all inthralled. He spoke of a man. Castiel had nudged closer, trying to hear all the details. Apparently the subject at matter was rather exciting. A young man had just been promoted to admiral. The youngest admiral in history, actually. He was apparently fast becoming infamous at bustling ports. He sailed the finest ship in the navy, second only to the great Michael. He was extremely handsome and could take on 5 fully grown men once, though he was very young and still growing. Castiel stood at awe in the stories. He decided then to change his trade. He joined the navy, if only for a chance of a glimpse at the famous Dean Winchester.

That was before the war of course. Before the greatest test the navy had ever experienced. Castiel heard many stories when he was just a lowly sailor. He mostly listened, and stored the stories away to anylise later. Then when the war happened, the stories became more serious, more solemn. Rumors of a brother gone astray, of a deal with davy jones himself, then his famed disappearence. Nobody knew what happened to him. They'd assumed he'd been captured. All they really knew was that as soon as Winchester disappeared, the war stopped. The pirates just simply stopped attacking. It seemed they had completed their purpose. Dean Winchester wasn't heard from for two years. Most people said he was dead. Then he mysteriously appeared in a port one day, a pirate port mind you, wearing dark tattered clothing, heavily armed, and followed by the most allusive of pirates. He quickly sailed to the top of the most wanted list. First anitiative for the navy was to capture Dean Winchester.

It was Castiel's dream; Capture Dean Winchester, the man he'd been obsessing over for a large portion of his life. It was daunting, sure. Winchester was described as being 3 heads above all men, large in stature, almost completely muscle, with a beard to rival all beards, and a nasty scar aross his face, mutilating it almost beyond recognition. And if the legends meant anything, he could take on 10 men drunk and blindfolded.

But Castiel wasn't worried. He was clever, and strong, and what he lacked in bulk, he more than made up for in strategy.

"Captain, ship spotted off stern!" A shout from the mast snapped Castiel out of his reverie.

"Colors" Castiel shouted back

"It appears to fly under the flag of a merchant, sir"

Castiels first mate appeared at his side. "This is rare for these waters, sir. Shall we approach and ask their business?"

Castiel simply nodded. He didn't see the harm in it. Often times, merchants would even slip him a treat, if he noticed something against code. Who could say no to a spice cake after weeks on hard tack?

The Georgiana cut through the water, heading swiftly toward the ship in the distance, with help from a steady brease that helpfully filled its sails.

As his ship approached, however, Castiel sensed something was off. He cracked open his telescope and got a closer look at the ship. His suspiciouns were merited. There was no one on her deck. She appeared to be drifting, empty.

"Balthazar, come here." Castiel called to his first mate.

"Yes sir?"

"The ship appears to be empty," he told Balthazar, "It could be a trap. But there could still be someone on her that may need our assistance. We do have... important cargo. Should we risk it?"

Balthazar looked through the looking glass. "Sir, we're already on course. If there are people aboard that ship waiting to ambush us, we could hardly avoid it at this point. And of course, we can't report to the Navy that we saw a mysterious abandoned ship, and just let it drift away without further investigation."

"Very well," Castiel nodded. It's what he'd thought as well. But Balthazar was a good first mate, and generally he took his advice seriously. "We shall see."

The crew held their breath as the Georgiana aproached the drifting vessel.