Mud Puddles [Jim Hawkins x Reader]

Chapter 3

In their third year, the 18-year-old cadets were finally allowed to learn how to pilot, fix, and maintain ships. For safety reasons (and due to the costly nature of proper-sized vessels), all cadets began their training in the robust but well-used longboats. These longboats had witnessed many generations of 3rd-year cadets and were looking worse for wear because of it.

Commander Nigella Hawthorne, the head officer for the syndicate, had agreed to coach the squad in the basics of piloting due to her extensive expertise and experience in the skill. The commander was a legend around campus. It was rumoured she had outsmarted an entire pirate fleet into Naval space where they all were captured and -- potentially an exaggeration -- saved 100 hostages, salvaging over ten thousand doubloons. One of the smaller pirate ships was kept on campus, repurposed to be used as a training ship for those that had mastered the longboat.

Suffice to say, the Commander's reputation preceded her.

"Form up, Cadets! By the end of today you will know how to operate and fix a longboat, but only if you pay close attention." The Commander went on to demonstrate how one would fix a common engine rupture and then sent each cadet to the 16 separate longboats, all in an intentional state of disrepair.

Jim was feeling very confident. He had a right to: he had been tinkering with solar surfers and other machinery since he could hold a screwdriver! His repair work was very quick and thorough, and he fixed all of the issues with the boat; including the issues that hadn't been discussed yet by the Commander. The boy next to him watched his handy-work with an opportunistic grin.

"Oi, Jim! Wanna trade boats?" The cadet whispered, his pudgy hands unblemished by the engine grease. It was obvious he hadn't even attempted to fix his boat.

"Nope." Jim popped the P and rolled his eyes at Broden Wilkes's mediocre attempt to weasel out of fixing his boat.

"Suit yourself," He grumbled, slumping further into the side of his boat.

Jim's longboat sputtered into life with difficulty. He produced a wrench from his pocket and whacked it against the metal to persuade the engine further. The boat's deep clamour evened into a healthy rumble which reached the ear of Commander Hawthorne, and she raised an approving eyebrow.

While Jim was kicking back in his finished longboat, (Y/N) had more difficulty with her engine repairs.

"I swear if you don't -- Gah!" In the midst of attempting to coax a panel from the body, a deposit of oil sprayed into her face and left black spots of grease all over her cheeks and forehead.

"(L/N), what seems to be the trouble?" The Commander said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere at her exclamation.

"I'm just having a bit of difficulty re-wiring the couplers, that's all." (Y/N) rubbed her face in her sleeve in an effort to clean the oil from her face, but a dark, greasy smear remained.

"It seems you've inserted one upside down," She peered at (Y/N)'s handiwork with a small wrinkle of concern in the corner of her eye, "...and you might find the wire cutters more useful if you used them the right way up."

"Oh, thanks." She mumbled and her face flushed a deep red.

A few moments passed and she became aware of a presence above her. Looking up, she saw Jim indifferently leaning against her helm, aloof as ever.

"Wire cutters upside down. Tut tut. Maybe you'll need someone to coach you how to hold a spanner too, just to be on the safe side." He smirked, eyebrow raised. (Y/N) sighed exasperatedly at his satirical comment and continued to fix the couplers.