A Zarethian military vessel, a frigate bearing the colors of the Council was waiting in the depths of space, orbiting the dwarf star of the system and waiting for the allies to arrive.
Onboard were all manner of individuals, shipmates, officers and politicians waiting for the ships to emerge. Half of the Council was sitting in the ship's captain's quarters, guarded by black and gold adorned ZPAA troopers. They were were wearing all sorts of colorful garments, black and gold, red and blue, etc. They were, talking heatedly about the Anrufe.
Suddenly, a bell rung throughout the ship. One unfamiliar with the Zarethian culture would suspect that they were under attack, considering the alarm claxons. Red lights spread throughout the ships, casting everything in a panicing red light.
Then a deep reverberrating voice spoke through the intercom. "Attention, crew. Tea time. That is all."
And promptly, each and every individual except those doing the most dire of tasks, pulled out their tea cups/flasks/drinking tubes and simultaneously began to sip their daily delicacy.