Margaret is on her way to work, walking instead of flying today so she can drink her coffee without spilling it, when she sees the cryptid. She's a truly far-out one, no limbs to speak of, just a long snaky body with a mirror for a face. Margaret smiles at her and goes to walk on by, but the cryptid slithers right at her all of a sudden and--hits?--Margaret with the giant mirror. Except she doesn't experience getting whacked with a sheet of glass.
He gets this cleaned, and relays what happened (and his thanks) next time they meet. (The general opinion of - and belief in - her powers seems to have gone up, too, as the gossip spreads.)
She's long been used to her powers being public knowledge and generally regarded as useful, so it's nice to be moving back towards that state again. Also nice to feel like she can contribute to the ship; unemployment itches. She looks forward to getting an actual analyst job again, this time tracking baddies rather than pathogens.
She gets a couple more opportunities to contribute over the flight - space is big, travel takes a long time, and old ships like the one she's on are rife with problems that can easily edge into crises.
Still, nothing catastrophic happens, and soon enough they're being warned to prepare for a drop out of hyperspace (the protocols for this having already been covered. It's mostly 'seat belts').
Helping is good; absence of catastrophes is better. She can sit in her chair and put on her seatbelt, though her wings are squashed up in a weird posture and kind of stick out into the aisle.
Luckily, they thought to account for that - mostly by sticking her somewhere people are unlikely to need to rush by her, since they didn't have the time or capacity to custom make her a landing seat.
The drop's uneventful, and then they're being informed they can unbuckle their seats now - it'll be a while yet before they get clearance to dock at the space station, though.
A custom seat would have been silly, since she won't be on this ship long-term. Once she can unbelt herself she goes looking for a window she can look at the station through without getting in anyone's way.
This is findable! The stars continue to be really amazing from space - this is a view she hasn't gotten much of, given that hyperspace glows brightly enough they keep any windows darkened, and she hadn't had much leisure before getting rescued.
Stargazing is the good kind of really painful. The first few minutes remind her that she's light-years and also regular years and an even more incomprehensible sort of distance from home, but once she pushes through the loneliness it instead starts feeling like it doesn't matter. There's so much universe out there: surely she'll find a place in it eventually.