Jones, despite not having much affinity for either the upper class or their parties, was rather enjoying himself. Partly, this was due to the fact that the canap?s were delicious, but also due to the large security presence dotted around. He gave a small nod to a sniper who hadn't quite completely concealed himself behind a large, decorative urn in a wall alcove, and turned, almost walking into a plump, balding man.
"I do say, I am terribly sorry", trilled the man, "I don't think we've met before. I'm Simon Wattlesby, I'm on the board of directors for Planetform, dont'cha'know?"
"Pleased to meet you" replied Jones, extending a hand
Wattlesby shook it, then, as a tray of canap?s passed, quickly grabbed a pair. They consisted of a slightly bluish tinted meat, on a pastry base.
"You should try one of these...I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name"
"Commander Jones of the BAF"
"Well, Jones, you should try one, they're made from one of planetform's most prized species, the Gaian Leviathan"
A strange look passed across Jones' face for a second, then he composed himself and took one of the canap?s. He bit into it cautiously.
"It's the new venison, old bean", crowed Wattlesby, obviously pleased with his success. "you know, I really shouldn't be telling you this but we've got a colony of leviathans on planet Cambridge, quite near here in fact"
"I already know", said Jones darkly
"Oh, I guess they put up warning signs around the breeding lakes despite my recommendations" said Wattlesby, obviously peeved that the other directors had rejected his idea.
"No, it wasn't that, although perhaps if there had been warning signs, I wouldn't have known about the leviathans"
"Why would that...oh", said Wattlesby, as realisation finally dawned on him. "I..ah...well...it's like this you see...ah..."
"Thanks to your refusal to put up warning signs, I was off duty for three whole months, and you know how many armed forces pilots died because of that?"Asked Jones, his voice set in that quiet tone that people use just before they start beating the person in front of them with the nearest heavy object.
"no?" quavered Wattlesby
"Neither do I" Hissed Jones, before walking off through the crowds.
