"In the year of 1650 the world changed as advances in steam power brought new opportunities for many different forms of living. Food production, transportation and even weapons are changed greatly over the next 100 years. These changes were slow in the beginning, but began to pick up as new discoveries were made.

The first thing to change was how people lived in cities and towns were connected to great factories that ran on steam produced by heated water. In the beginning the use of coal was common but as problems with breathing grew worst, the change was called for by the citizens of these affected areas. The Government refused to listen and this started the 1698 Black Winter.

Said government took the newly created forms of weapons and began their expansion. They spread further out into the lands, spreading all over the Greater Continent and to the Eastern Continent. In the following decade the government hired pirates to expand and bring their message to continents they could not reach on land.

These hired pirates soon became at odds with the pirates that hated the government and war started between them. The pirates believed that the Government would take away their freedom, while the privateers were well paid and their families compensated if they were lost in battle. Most privateers saw their rights were expendable and that in the long run they didn't matter. This didn't settle well with the pirates and many citizens. The Government punishes all pirates who refuse to join their alliance. Piracy is punishable by death or work prisons."

A boy of about fourteen set the book down and sat back into his chair after reading the passage. His teacher stood up and began explaining what this passage meant, but he couldn't listen. He hated learning that the Government wanted to end the lives of all pirates. He was concerned for his older brother who often left him to earn a living on the sea. He lived in constant fear that he would never hear from his brother again, that he would be killed or captured.

The children of all Government school's were taught this, taught the history and taught that the Government was always right. In some parts of the Government's reign the families refused to allow their children to go to school in case they would be brainwashed into learning that they were to give all their rights up to the Government.

The boy's brother had told him that no matter what they were not allowed to take away their free will. But he found it hard to fight back, he was forced to go to school thanks to a program that was to teach the children and teens of his village. The Government wanted all their citizens all over the world to be educated, but only educated with what they wanted them to be educated with.

"The world is ours, we own it so we should be able to do what we please and take what we want." His brother had told him one day before he had left for another trip.

He knew that his brother would be fine, but he had no one since their parent's had passed. Sometimes their Uncle cared for him and left food, but he was so busy and he lived all the way across the valley that sometimes the boy didn't see him for a week or more. All he could do was wait for his brother to return.

"Samuel!" The demanding voice of his teacher caused the boy to look up from his book and he stood up in preparation for whatever passage he was going to be instructed to recite. He hated it...he wanted nothing more than to be with his brother out on the sea. He knew once he was older he could leave this place, and no longer have to be groomed to be a good soldier for the Government.

Silence had filled the old building as the stranger entered, his clothing and posture the opposite of many of the men sitting at the tables. It was an old pub that was frequented by seafaring men, most of whom were pirates. The walls were a brown-white, aged from the years the building had been standing and in the center of the room was an old wood bar, an older man standing there wiping it down.

"Cad is feidir liom a dheanahm ar do shon?" The man who had been wandering around the large, dust filled room stopped when he heard someone speak to him in he assumed was the local tongue. He blinked in confusion before speaking in the less common trade language hoping the man would understand him.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't understand." He said in a deep rough voice. The bartender narrowed his eyes studying the stranger before looking over his shoulder and shouting in the same language as before.

"Deian! Go bhufuil duine eigin anseo ag labhairt an tradail."

A man with bright green eyes responded with a shout that the man assumed was some form of swearing before running over to the bartender and smiled at the stranger as the older man clapped him on the back and went to help a patron. Freckles accented his forest green eyes, his dirty blond-brown hair cut short and clean. His smile was bright and he seemed to happy, too clean for this filthy place.

"Sorry, you don't speak Gaeilge?" The man asked leaning forward on the bar. "Dean." He introduced himself nodding his head towards the man. The stranger was at least a couple inches shorter than Dean but he was dressed in fine clothing that could only come from living a life paid by the government. Dean didn't trust anyone who worked for any government, especially in his line of work.

"Castiel." The man said in an accent Dean couldn't place. He wasn't from Dean's home country due to the coloring of the uniform he was wearing, and the accent wasn't from the surrounding lands as all of them had similar accents. The accent wasn't too thick, but it went well with the deep voice of the man.

The uniform was a blue and silver, the blue matching the eyes of Castiel. His hair was a mess of dark hair as if he had been standing out in the wind too long. On his one hip was a sword, the hilt adorned in gems. Dean leered at the stones for a bit, his instincts telling him he could fetch a good price with that sword. He looked back up to the man's face, Dean would admit he was good looking but seemed to have a few lines on his face from the hard life out at sea. Dean had a hard time placing how old Castiel was exactly, but he knew he couldn't be more than a few years older than Dean.

"You far from home Castiel?" Dean asked a bit of hostility entering his voice. Castiel spared him a glance and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, why do you ask?" Dean only shrugged and pretended to work on the bar.

"What are you needing?" Dean asked finally grabbing a rag from the side. He only helped out at the bar that his Uncle owned when he was in town, growing up he often helped out the best he could while working up the courage to finally stow away on one of the ships in the port.

"I'm looking for men to fill some spots in my crew. I pay well." Castiel explained looking around the room for any possible men. Dean set the rag down and smiled. This was way too easy of a mark.

"I just happen to be a sailor myself, if you need help you came to the right place!" Dean smirked. Castiel turned back in surprise and shrugged.

"If you say so. I still need a few more men."

"Fir, no mor duinn a post! A mairnealach saibhir! Lig duinn ag imirt deas agus a chur ar an or!" Dean shouted and several men stood up shouting back. Castiel didn't understand what they were saying but he did know that these men were pirates.

He grumbled under his breath and looked at the gathering men. He hated pirates, they were nothing but lowly scum that took what they wanted. He didn't trust them and he turned back to Dean who had wanted around to the front of the bar.

"You are all pirates?" Castiel asked frowning. He looked around the bar to see if there was anyone who wasn't one, but they all were staring back at him making him feel as if he had walked right into a trap. "Blyad'." Castiel swore.

"Do you have a problem with this? You wanted men, why be picky?" Dean said standing closer to Castiel. He knew Dean was testing him, and he kept an even face and didn't back away.

"No. I will need your names, and need to know how many of you speak the trade language." Castiel looked at the men who seemed to not understand what he was saying.

"I'm afraid I'm the only one who does." Dean explained before translating what Castiel had said for the other men.

Castiel nodded and turned to Dean sighing. He didn't want anything to do with pirates, especially ones that were so illiterate they probably couldn't even read or write in their own mother language. He could tell Dean was smart, and strong and it would be a wise choice to make him higher up in command as it seemed he was in charge of the group of men that had joined him. Castiel was sure they wouldn't take his orders, but perhaps if Dean was giving the orders they would respect him and there would be less of a chance of mutiny.

"Do you have any experience as being a first mate?" Castiel asked Dean. The man hesitated before nodding. He was used to being in charge, but seeing as Castiel was obviously the captain, Dean would take second in charge over being a deck swabber.

Castiel's ship was a well sized three masted clipper, a few men were working to fix the sails and side of the ship, the ship having gotten into a bit of bad weather on the way there. She had the word, "Врата рая" painted on her side. Dean let out a low whistle at the sight of the ship, surprised at how large and well kept she was other than the damage from the storm. He wasted no time as he boarded the ship right behind Castiel.

"What is her name?" Dean asked. Castiel smiled and led the man to below deck.

"Vrata raya. Heaven's Gate." He explained.

"What language is that?" Dean scoffed looking around the sleeping quarters. There was a good amount of room to move about down there, much better than other ships Dean had been on.

"Why does it matter? You have your own language, I have mine." Castiel stated his eyes narrowing. Dean didn't question it anymore as it seemed Castiel didn't want to talk about it, and Dean didn't want to get in trouble with the captain before they even set sail.

"I will show you to my quarters, where you can find me if there is anything going on that needs my attention." Castiel led him further back into the ship.

They entered a large, uncluttered room. In the front there was an ornate desk that seemed to be carved out of an ancient red wood and fastened to the floor. Papers and maps were strewn across the desk and Dean could only wonder how many place Castiel had visited, he was slightly jealous of this. A good sized bed was shoved between to bookcases, the bedding thrown about as if Castiel had just woken. The room moved into a point and an open window was above a nook carved into the side with pillows thrown onto it. Dean noticed that it had a latch, and Dean could imagine Castiel taking a warm day off and laying there looking out it with the window open. The window was above the water level enough so in normal weather water wouldn't be able to enter. But he was sure that when weather turned for the worst that it would stay firmly closed. The walls were adorn with maps and royal decelerations from the Government in a the same language as that was on the ship.

"Sit." Castiel ordered as he sat at his desk and searched for a quill and ink to write with. Dean sat down on a chair across from Castiel, still looking around the room in awe. Castiel seemed to notice this as he smiled and shook his head.

"You think this is anything? You should see the higher ups personal cabins." He said. Dean raised an eyebrow, not even being able to imagine what that would look like. He was so used to being in dirty, crammed quarters in small pirate ships but this was something else entirely.

"I need your name and the names of all the men who are joining my crew. At this time I have only ten men working for me, but that is not enough to man a ship this size." He explained.

"Deian Winchester." Dean stated, using his given Gaeilge name. Castiel wrote it down on a piece of white clean parchment.

"Age?" He asked without looking up from the paper.

"23." Dean knew he was young compared to many of the other men on the ship and from the way Castiel sent him a raised eyebrow, he could tell he was younger than Castiel. "You...seem young for a captain, how old are you?" He asked. "Sir?" He added hesitantly.

"I did not start my work until I was well out of my teens. I have just passed my 29h winter." He explained. Dean's eyes widened, the man did not seem that much older than him.

"Do you have family? Parents? Siblings? Wife, children?" Castiel lingered on the last two and Dean felt slightly uncomfortable under the captain's blue gaze.

"I have a brother, Samuel. He's much younger than me...I have no one else." He explained. Castiel nodded and wrote that down quickly. Dean realized this must have been in case anything happened to him.

"Since you seem to know those men, you may write down their names, age, and next of kin if you know this information." Castiel stated placing the parchment in front of Dean who began scribbling down the information.

Castiel was intrigued by this young man. He was surprised he knew how to write so well as it was well known most pirates knew nothing of reading or writing. He could tell he was very intelligent, and he hoped that Dean would serve him well and wouldn't jump ship. He wanted to learn more about him, and he was sure that Dean wouldn't be scared off by any sort of danger they may find themselves in. He could sense that Dean had an adventurers soul, just how eager he was to leave with some ship that could easily take him to his execution showed this.

Once Dean was done he handed the paper back to Castiel before standing. "I would like to help with the repairs if that is alright with you."

"That will be fine." Castiel said setting the paper down. He knew that most of these names were likely fake but he didn't care. He was working with pirates after all, what was he expecting?

Translations – (Some are supposed to be Gaelic but since google translate only had Irish that will have to do.)
Go bhfuil duine eigin anseo ag labhairt an tradail. - There is someone here speaking the trade.
Cad is feidir liom a dheanamh ar do shon – What can I do for you?
Gaeilge – Irish
Deian – Dean
"Fir, no mor duinn a post! A mairnealach saibhir! Lig duinn ag imirt deas agus a chur ar an or!" Men, we have a job! A rich sailor! Let us play nice and take the gold!
Blyad' – Fuck
Врата рая – Heaven's Gate