Two weeks had passed since the Legacy has set sail from Montressor on its voyage across the wide ocean of space to find Flint's treasure. Since that time Jim Hawkins had been under the rule of the ship's cook, John Silver, a fact he resented greatly. Never being one to respect authority or obey orders, the unending list of mundane tasks given to him by Silver was grating on Jim's nerves. He had already snapped several times at the cyborg, earning himself more work or a long stint at potato peeling, a task he was beginning to dread. Each night he would eat his dinner as if starved for a week and then collapse into his bunk, completely oblivious to the world until he was roused by Silver with a new day's worth of chores.

Jim kicked at the woodwork as he made his way down to the galleon's depths. This morning he had been set to work directly after breakfast, cleaning and scrubbing until his hands were raw. Now that irritating cook had sent him to organise rope. Rope! Jim was sure Silver made the tasks up just to annoy him. But at least this task ensured a little peace from the man's watchful glare, the mechanical eye twirling and focusing on the boy's work and noting every minute flaw.

The Legacy's docking room was littered with tangled piles of rope and other detritus. Jim looked at the mess and gave an angry sigh. The dock held two longboats for going to port when the ship was in a planet's atmosphere; each had a small life support system in case the crew needed to evacuate the ship.

Jim looked without enthusiasm around the room, his hands pushed deep into his trouser pockets. Suddenly he saw something that commanded his full attention. Hooked to one wall, neatly folded up, was a shiny new solar surfer. Jim walked up to it and ran his hands along the smooth lines of the craft, a completely different league to the junks that he had built and owned back home. With a surge of excitement he saw that this too had been equipped with a life support system which would create a small atmosphere around the surfer, protecting them from the empty void of space. He noted that the air was on full, providing over an hour worth of surfing time.

Jim looked from the board to the hatch of the dock and then back to the sleek surfer. Every curve of its sleek metallic surface begged him to ride it.

With sudden decision, Jim snatched up the surfer and went to the hatch. Without a second thought he flung himself into space with it, the sail unfurling and the engine kicking in to send the boy and his craft shooting off among the stars.

He would only be gone an hour, Jim thought to himself. He'd gone directly down from the galleon out of sight from prying eyes so his disappearance would probably not even be noticed. He would be back and have his chores done before anyone even realised he had gone.

Without any more thought on the matter Jim let out a wild whoop and kicked the surfer into overdrive, leaving a golden trail of fire in his wake.

Jim was careful to check his oxygen levels and when they read a little over half full he reluctantly turned his surfer back towards the Legacy. He joined in the trail of a pod of dolphinia as they swayed along on the current of a solar wind and peeled off when his ship came back into view. He frowned then, noticing something between him and the galleon, or rather, many somethings. As he came closer Jim realised that he was on the wrong side of an asteroid field. Desperately he looked the barrier up and down but saw that the end to the field was too far away now for his limited oxygen supply to take him. His eyes lit up – a challenge!

Jim swung the surfer's sail around and shot into the heart of the field, jinking and dodging expertly around the river of rock, some only the size of his fist whilst others were bigger than houses. He bared his teeth in a grin, his heart thumping wildly in his chest as he navigated the asteroid maze. Suddenly he came up against a wall of asteroids and had to swerve to avoid crashing into it. A few seconds of heart-in-mouth weaving and he was back on course. Letting out a sigh of relief and beginning now to think that it wasn't as fun as he first thought, Jim focused on getting through the field.

A moment later and there was a sickening crunch of metal as his surfer's tail connected with a rock. Jim hauled on the sail, rolling alarmingly and swerving to miss more asteroids. Spotting the exit he kicked the machine into overdrive once more, shooting out into empty space.

The surfer managed to close the gap by half before the engine sputtered and failed. Cursing, Jim bent to look at the machine; thankfully the life-support had a failsafe backup but the surfer's propulsion was smashed.

Jim bit his lip, looking at the Legacy which suddenly seemed very far away. He was still heading in its direction but the vessel was now only coasting along. At this rate he wouldn't reach the ship in time before his air ran out. He looked down at the engine again and frantically tried to repair the damage done to it. After what seemed like an age he managed to get a faint sputter of life from the thing, increasing its speed from a crawl to a slightly faster crawl. More tinkering and it let out a quick burst of life, stuttering and limping towards the galleon but it still wasn't enough. The air was getting quite thin now and the ship was still outside of hailing distance.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Jim prised a metal segment of the board away, trying to keep his breathing calm and low against the wishes of his hammering heart. Checking that the surfer was still on course he breathed out carefully, knowing what he was about to do was dangerously reckless. Then he raised the metal in the air and brought it down into the inner workings of the surfer engine.

The effect was terrifyingly immediate. The spark of the metal provided a catalyst for the remaining fuel which ignited, exploding the surfer forwards faster than overdrive speed, a cannonball aimed straight at the Legacy with Jim holding on for dear life.

Thankfully the fuel on the surfer gave out before it reached the Legacy and the craft crash landed on the ship's deck without any major damage to the decking. Jim was thrown from the surfer, half-suffocated and gasping for breath.

'Hawkins! What in the name of the seven hell-planets do you think you are doing?' Captain Amelia's voice snapped him back to the present.

Jim eased himself upright, massaging his bruised body as he stared sheepishly at the ship's captain. 'Er... bit of a malfunction,' he said.'

'Malfunction?' Mr Arrow repeated, glaring at the smoking, twisted wreckage of the surfer. The rest of the crew had assembled around the boy, giving him unkind looks as they watched the show.

Jim had the good grace to blush. He raised a hand to the back of his head and rubbed at his neck. 'I got caught in an asteroid field,' he said lamely.

'Jim! Are you all right?' Dr Doppler came rushing up, checking the boy all over for signs of broken bones and other trauma. When he was sure that he was only bruised he took Jim's shoulders and gazed at him sternly. 'That was a very dangerous thing to do, Jim.'

'Dangerous and insubordinate,' Amelia snapped, hands on hips. 'Who gave you permission to take out that craft?'

'Er-'

'He had no-one's permission, that's clear fact,' Silver's voice rumbled from the crowd. The crew parted to let the large cyborg pass until the man was stood in front of the cabin-boy. 'He was meant to be in the dock room, sorting rope.'

Jim flushed angrily at the cooks tone. 'So what? I'm sick of doing what you tell me to all the time! It's just work, work, work. All I wanted was one stinking hour of fun!'

Silver and Amelia exchanged a look. Though the pair were seldom seen to agree on any front the look they shared now was in complete agreement.

'So, you disobeyed a direct order given to you by Mr Silver,' the captain said icily. 'You stole a spacecraft, abandoned your duty and went for a joyride. Not only that but you destroyed the craft and endangered the lives of this crew. Is this what you call fun?'

Jim was struck dumb by the captain's derisive tone. For the first time that day he began to regret taking the surfer out.

'I ought to throw you in the brig for this,' Amelia was saying.

'Now listen, Captain,' Doppler interrupted. 'I understand that Jim is in the wrong but this is simply a case of childish high spirits-'

'Shut up, Doctor,' Amelia snapped. 'Hawkins, you shall spend the next fortnight on nightly watch for endangering the lives of the crew, the cost of the surfer will come out of your wages. As for disobeying your orders and derelicting your duty that is for Mr Silver to decide, as you were under his charge.'

Silver laid his human hand heavily on Jim's shoulder. 'Don't you worry, ma'am,' he said with deadly calm. 'I'm certain I can find suitable punishment for this child's actions.'

Something unspoken passed between the captain and the cook at that point but Jim was too outraged to notice it. Even Dr Doppler had sided against him. It had only been a bit of fun, what was everyone getting so worked up about?

He didn't have time to think however as Silver began to drag him away into the galley. Jim stumbled after his awkwardly, his aching muscles protesting this unkind treatment.

John Silver didn't let go of the boy's collar until he was in the galley. He threw Jim away from him and then stood, hands on hips and legs splayed in a domineering manner.

'No listen, young swab-' he began with a growl.

'Save your lecture,' Jim snapped. 'You've been running me ragged for the better part of two weeks. I'm sorry the surfer got wrecked but I just wanted to blow off some steam!'

'Blow off steam, is it?' Silver demanded. 'You disappear for over an hour without telling anyone where you're going, you put your life at risk sailing unknown waters without navigation and you're still stood here trying to argue that you're not in the wrong?'

Jim bit back his words, he hadn't thought of that when he had taken the craft, all he had wanted was a little while of precious freedom after so much slaving for the unrelenting taskmaster.

'Now you listen here,' Silver said, stepping forwards until he was towering over the lad. 'You got lucky today. If you were on a ship commanded by some captains I've known then disobeying a direct order like that would have seen you swinging in a noose!' The cook's mechanical eye was rotating wildly, indicating just how angry the man was. 'As it is the captain saw fit to hand your discipline over to me and let me tell you, you'll not see through this disobedience lightly.'

Jim narrowed his eyes. 'Yeah? What are you going to do, old man?'

Silver growled, pushed further by the boy's stubbornness. 'You acted like a child today, Jim-lad. S'only fitting you get a child's punishment.'

Saying this Silver stepped away and started to roll back his sleeves.

'Get yourself over the table, Jim my lad,' he said in a lowly menacing voice.

Jim couldn't believe what he was hearing. The man couldn't be thinking of spanking him surely? But to his horror that seemed to be the cyborg's intention.

'Don't be stupid,' he scoffed. 'I won't let you.'

Silver crooked an eyebrow at the boy. 'Jim, I'm bigger and stronger than you. This can work two ways. Either you get yourself bent over that table and take your punishment, or I hold you down and give you double!'

Jim flushed bright red, knowing the man spoke the truth.

'Captain Amelia-' he began.

'The captain gave me leave to deal with your insubordination as I saw fit,' the cook said. 'I don't says as we usually see eye to eye but let me assure you, I have her full approval in this.'

Jim swallowed, remembering the woman's eyes and realising that the cyborg was telling the ruth. He hated the thought of going through with what the man was demanding but he hated the idea of it being forcibly done to him more. Very reluctantly he turned his back on Silver and bent over the kitchen table.

He heard the shift of the decking as Silver came up to stand behind him and then felt the weight of the cooks metal hand resting on the small of his back, instantly grateful that the man was using his flesh-hand to administer the punishment.

SMACK

Jim jumped and bit his lip. The swat had come out of nowhere, without any kind of warning and it had taken all he had not to yell out in surprise. The second slap was much the same and left a burning pain behind it which was quickly reinforced by a third and a fourth.

Silver's big hand covered almost half of the boy's backside as the man laid blow after blow on his trousered behind. After a very short time his whole bottom was on fire with thousands of tiny needles of pain. Silver slapped the tops of his thighs too; focusing the majority of his blows on the area where Jim would feel it the most when he sat for the next few days.

Jim pressed his lips together firecely, only letting the occasional pained grunt through his otherwise stoic defences. His fingers dug into the wooden surface of the table and he involuntarily pushed up from it against Silver's hand that pinned him like a vice. He lifted his legs one after the other and then dug them into the floor, hoping somehow that the pain would flow out from them and into the decking, his boots thudding against the planks as he tried to dance away from the pain.

Still the spanking continued, Silver not letting up from his blistering pace. He carried out the punishment in silence, his face stony as his hand did all the talking. Eventually the blows ended and Jim breathed a long sigh of relief, triumphant that he had remained silent throughout the ordeal. He was shaking badly and his whole body ached with the combined strain of the accident and from trying to escape his punishment. He was about to push himself off the table when he heard Silver's voice from behind him.

'Drop your trousers, boy.'

Jim craned his head over his shoulder, staring at the cook in disbelief. 'What?'

'You didn't think those warm up swats were all you'd get?' Silver asked in equal incredulity. 'That was just for skipping your chores, lad, this is for disobeying orders.' Saying that Silver reached a hand to his waist and began to draw his belt from the loops of his trousers.

Jim's face lost all its colour as he watched the man take the thick leather and double it into a strap. His throat went dry and all he could manage in protest was a strangled gasp.

'I won't wait all day,' the cook warned. 'Do as I say, Jim-lad, or you'll be getting double.'

Jim closed his eyes as the horror of this statement overwhelmed him for a moment. Then, unable to believe what was happening, he turned around and undid his trousers, letting them drop to his knees as he bent once more over the table.

CRACK

Jim couldn't help the small whimper he made as the leather belt made contact with his already abused flesh. He gasped ragged breaths and sucked in sharply as the belt struck again, this time slightly lower than the first.

'Nnngh,' he gasped as the belt fell again, his eyes wide and his hands curling into fists against the pain.

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Jim's bottom was rapidly turning from its rosy hue to a firey red. Angry red welts appeared after every stroke of the strap, each a little lower than the last and covering the length of his backside, down to the sensitive undercurve. It wasn't long before Jim was exclaiming at every stroke, unable to keep silent any longer as the punishment continued. Tears welled in his eyes and then began to fall. Finally the boy broke down completely, sobbing and begging the man to stop.

'Stop, please, I'm sorry,' he cried. 'Silver, please, I didn't mean to break the surfer!'

Silver gritted his teeth and continued laying down the belt, although he lessened the force just a little bit. 'It's not about the surfer, boy,' he growled. 'This is about you putting yourself in danger.'

I... can handle... myself,' Jim panted, rubbing his tears on his arms angrily.

'Apparently not!' Silver snapped, moving on to the thighs. 'What would have happened if you'd been lost, eh? Or run out of air? We'd never have found you. You would've died, Jim. What would the Doc tell your old mum then?'

At the mention of his mother fresh tears welled in Jims eyes. He crossed his arms and buried his face in them, sobbing uncontrollably as the image of his mother's face swam into his mind's eyes. She gazed at him sadly, tears in her own eyes, her work-worn hands reaching out for the boy in a silent plea.

Jim didn't even notice when Silver stopped his punishment, or when the cook replaced his trousers and began to pat his back in a comforting way. After a while the man held Jim's shoulder and raised him up, taking the boy's chin and tilting it upwards.

'Listen to me, lad, and listen well,' he said gravely. 'Don't you ever go risking yourself like that again, do we have an understanding?'

Unable to speak a reply Jim merely nodded his head, gulping back fresh tears.

Silver twitched a smile at the boy's sincere face, swollen with crying and still red with embarrassment. He put and arm around the boy and hugged him tight for a few moments, then stepped away, holding the boy at arm's length as if to separate himself once again from the cabin-boy.

'You've got someone waiting for you back home,' he said. 'Don't you go making her wait forever.'

Jim nodded once more, barely able to meet the cook's solemn face, knowing that he had been wrong and ashamed with his actions.

He wiped a hand across his eyes and nose, composing himself and taking a deep, steadying breath. 'I've got a hold to clean,' he said.

Silver grinned, propelling the boy towards the stairs and slapping him heartily on the back. 'Go on then, Jimbo,' he said jollily. 'When you're done you come right back here and start on the potatoes for dinner.'

Jim gave a grimace but accepted the chore with good grace, disappearing out of the galley, leaving a contemplative silence behind him.

Silver shook his head, chuckling at the boy's youth and setting himself down on a chair to begin preparations for the evening meal. The boy would make a fine crewman one day.

If he lived that long.