Chapter Five: This Man is Dead
North of the Academy, was the estate of the distinguished Mr. Graham Burke. He was a Bugardian (A humanoid species with floppy ears and a single large eye above the nose and mouth.) of old money, didn't display his wealth flagrantly, and had recently acquired his residence from the previous Admiral of the Royal Navy: Theseion Huxley, of Second Terran-Procyon war fame.
The place had been in a state of disrepair ever since Theseion's death 37 years ago, and it was Mr. Burke's enduring pursuit to restore it to its former glory. His staff was working round the clock restoring the decayed mahogany stairwells and brass chandeliers of the entry hall with expert care.
Mr. Graham observed their work from the second floor with satisfaction and scratched behind one of his large, batlike ears. He motioned to his robotic valet and secretary, Ernest, who stood beside him.
"I should say Ernest, it seems the new manor is being remodeled ahead of schedule. I'm quite pleased. Don't you think it is a vast improvement from when I purchased it?"
"If you say so sir," Ernest ventured, quite displeased, "though I'd hardly call it livable. The whole place is still falling apart, not to mention the vermin problem. The poor housekeeper Mrs. Bennet still has no idea where they're coming from. It's as though they're materializing out of nowhere!"
"Oh hush, I didn't buy this place because it was comfortable! You know I would have taken it even if it was razed to the ground— it's the history I'm interested in."
Mr. Burke made his way towards the old office and Ernest moved to follow, before he walked straight into a large cobweb trailing from the ceiling and shuddered.
"Perhaps it would be better if it was razed to the ground," Ernest muttered. He hurried over to the office door to open it, but was suddenly stopped by Mr. Burke. His single eye was narrowed as he turned towards his confused valet.
"I hear someone talking in there. Didn't I tell the maids to keep out of the office?"
"You did, but Sir I—"
Mr. Burke swung back around to face the door and marched in, before Ernest could sputter another word, barking "Who's in here? This room is off-limits!"
The office was a large rectangular room with a grand writing desk at the far end, and behind it three floor-length glass windows that could be turned on to look out over the grounds. The high-backed leather armchair was pulled away from the desk and turned to face the shuttered windows, but other than that the room seemed empty, and dark.
Mr. Burke started for the chair, but was stopped by the cold metal barrel of a blaster, pressed against his temple. He froze and glanced wildly to his left, but all he could see was a robotic eye that glinted cerulean in the dark.
"How did you get in here?" Mr. Burke gasped at his aggressor. The bearer of the eye said nothing.
There was only a terrifying laugh all the way from the armchair, raspy and metallic.
"I know this estate far better than you do, my friend."
The lights in the room flickered on, and the chair swiveled to face Mr. Burke. Sitting in it was a humanoid figure in a dark blue military long coat, with two rows of golden buttons down the front. Atop his head was an old-fashioned bicorn hat, and his face was mostly obscured by a light gray scarf wrapped tightly around where his nose and mouth would be.
He was covered from head to toe, and had Mr. Burke not been occupied with what was peering over the scarf, he would have thought him an ordinary human man.
Eyes as blue as death glowed beneath the brim of his hat. Glassy orbs, inlaid in a polished metal skull.
Mr. Burke could only stare into those eyes, transfixed, useless. Screams emanated from the entry hall. Blaster fire. He heard Ernest's attempt to run away, before he too was caught and silenced.
"Are you—" He choked, "going to kill me too?" Big fat tears slid out of his one eye, and his lip began to tremble horribly.
The deathly figure sighed, suddenly disappointed. "Unfortunately, no."
He rose from the desk, to stand before one of the massive portraits in the office. It was an oil painting of a human man dressed in the military finery of an Admiral of the Terran Royal Navy, thrusting a saber into the air.
His eyes were blue.
"But I suspect you'll soon wish I did."