"Definitely not in space." Zoe didn't look at him. "Not any way-station I recognize, certainly not an Alliance Hospital." She was watching the patients, the one in a ball and the one she'd told to shove off. "BUN tyen-shung duh ee-DWAY-RO."* The patient wasn't moving along.
"Excuse me." She didn't ask the man sharing the bench with her to help. In fact, the way she moved, she seemed to be willing to handle it herself. It did take a little bit of a run and a slide over a table to get to the culprit before he got too far.
"I thought I said 'leave off that.'" She hadn't touched the offending patient, not yet. And, when the patient pulled out what looked like a spork, something obviously weapon like, Zoe didn't dive right at him. "You do not want to do this."
Apparently the patient very much did. The patient's attack was used against him; obviously he really didn't know what he was doing. Zoe took him down with little trouble; she'd have a nasty scratch on her arm from spork tines, but that was nothing. The patient, on the other hand, soon found himself face down on the ground, being tied up with the string tie from his pants.
"Next time listen." She stood up, shaking her head. The spork was pocketed, and she was already moving away. Now she had to hope the orderlies wouldn't try taking her in. It wasn't like she made the patient bleed, much, just a bit of a split lip.