“Ground Control to Major Thom”
{With kudos to David Bowie}

“Major Thom to Earth Ground Control. Come in Please?”

The scantily clad leggy blonde smiled as she said the words.
In the background the 20th Century Music of her hero ‘David Bowie’ was gently playing.

“Earth Ground Control here. The vessel calling itself the ‘Major Thom’ please identify yourself immediately. We have no records of any craft with that name”

“Major Thom to Earth Control. Is that you ‘Smarty Pace’?”

“Major Thom. I say again, please identify yourself? We are scrambling a squadron of Z wing space fighters as I speak.”

“Ground Control this is the Major Thom. Don’t even try to blast me out of space you silly bugger Smarty. You always were quick to shoot first and ask questions later. Remember the furlough in Barbados in 2103 or was it 2104? Do you still have that scar on your bottom lip, and the ring in your dick.”

There was a pause in communications.

“Unidentified Space Vessel calling itself ‘Major Thom’. Who the hell are you? The only person who knew about that was Captain Piggott. You sure as hell don’t sound like him. So who are you? You have 5 minutes before the fighters reach you.”

“Ground Control. Smarty, don’t be silly they will never catch me. Where am I on your screens?”

Without hesitation Ground Control answered, “Just entering Lagrange Orbit”

The blonde hit a few switches on the control panel.

Twenty seconds later she asked.

“Now Ground Control. Where am I? You should be able to pick up my transponder again… In 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Now”

After a few seconds the speaker came to life.

“Major Thom? I’ve got your transponder in orbit around Sol-3a”

“Cut the crap Smarty. Don’t you mean the Moon?”

“Yes Sol-3a” came the politically correct reply.

“How the hell did you get there? That was a jump of close on half a million klicks?”
She consulted a display on the panel in front of her.

“Is Four Hundred and Eighty Five Thousand klicks near enough?”

There was just static from the speakers.

With a big sigh more out of frustration than anything, she punched a few button on the panel. The moon was gone in the blink of an eye.

“Unidentified Craft in Sol-4 Orbit. Please identify yourself. We are receiving the transponder signal for the missing craft ‘Major Thom.’”

“Hello Mars control. This is the Major Thom. Back in the service once more. Do you mind telling me the date?”

“Major Thom, according to our records you went missing between Sol-5 and Sol-6 some 26 years ago. This is 2133-10.”

The blonde sat back and shook her head. She’d been gone for 20 earth years.
‘Shit” she said to herself.

“Major Thom to Mars Control. Request permission to dock at the Space Station I see coming over the Solar Horizon?”

“Major Thom. This is Sol-4 Control. Please stand by to be boarded for disease control checks.”

“Fuck off Mars Control. I’m fitter than I’ve been since I crawled out of my Mothers Womb in 2081. I’ll beam my health records over.”

“Beam?” came the spluttered reply.

The blonde pressed a few controls on the huge panel in front of her. As smile formed on her face as the control Deck of the space station appeared in front of her seemingly from out of nowhere.

“Right Mars control. Can you see my records? More importantly can you see me?”

“But.. Who… How?”

“Let us say that the old dog of a space captain has been replaced by a newer model. If you would compare the DNA with that of the former space captain, you will see that they are identical. That is assuming you still have my DNA of file from the three months I spent in the brig on Saturn 5 in 2110?”

“Major Thom. Please standby. Stay where you are. We need to do some verification.”

“Major Thom to Mars Control. Roger and Out.”

She broke comms link with the station.

Then she stood up and moved to the rear of the control deck.

Then she spoke out loud. It wasn’t obvious right away as to whom it was addressed to…

“Boris, transport me onto the station. Somewhere quiet please.”

“Yes Mistress” came the male sounding computer-generated voice,”
replied the ships computer.

“Lock down protocol 12 if you please. Auto return in 6 Earth Hours.”

“Yes Mistress. Awaiting Activation Command.”

“Activate Space Hopper, code Orange.”

The smiled as her oblique references to the past made her happy and secure. Who in their right mind would suspect that the transporter was operated by reference for a 20th Century children’s toy.

In true Sci-Fi fashion her shape slowly dissolved. In truth, this was not really needed but when her craft had been rebuilt, she’d decided to pay homage to the old 20th Century TV shows and make her transported appear to work much like that in ‘Start Trek’. She even had a ‘transcorder’ in a pouch on her belt.

Less than a second later she re-appeared inside the Space Station.

“Still ain’t got those scrubbers working properly then”, she grunted to herself as she took her first breaths of the on-board atmosphere.

“After 30 years they should have done that. This place still smells like a man’s arse after a good fuck, and a bloody ripe one at that.”

That was one thing that had not changed, the language emanating from her mouth. It was still as uncouth as it had been when the skinny street-wise kid had enrolled as a Space Cadet in 2100.

The station had not changed much in the 30 years since her last visit. She, on the other hand was a complete rebuild job from the DNA upwards. The new improved person was, well, drop dead gorgeous.

She headed towards the command centre. Up six levels and out onto the Alpha Spar where there was some semblance of gravity. She was wearing gravity shoes not that you’d think so by their apparently flimsy construction. She could adjust their gravitational attraction by a simple thought such was her very advanced built-in systems & telemetry.

She stepped off the travellator that had taken her out to the edge of the station and Alpha Spar, a little over 5 minutes later. Here the gravitation pull was similar to that encountered by the Apollo 11 Astronauts on the Moon in 1969.

The door to the Control room stood closed tight in front of her.
With an evil grin on her face, she placed her right thumb onto the fingerprint lock.

The grin turned into a smile as the door slid open.

The fools had not deleted her fingerprints and DNA from the station security system even after 30 years. No wonder her friends in the GGeWq Galaxy didn’t consider humans a threat to Galaxy Peace’ anytime soon, According to SwZZQa, the leader of the main race of the galaxy, and expressed purely in terms that the simple minded Earthlings could understand, ‘they couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag that had no bottom’.

She tended to agree with his assessment.

A few heads turned as the sound of her heels echoed on the decking.
“Hello Guys.”

The three people all just stared at her. Their mouths open wide. If they’d been cartoon characters, their eyes would have been popping out on stalks.

The first one to recover was the oldest most space worn ‘sea-dog’.

“Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?”

She grinned.

“Now Charlie, that is no way to greet your old drinking buddy now is it?”

He looked shocked.

“As you didn’t like my image I decided to drop on by and meet you face to face. You are as ugly as ever Charlie. Still got that scar from the barroom brawn in the Rising Sun on Moon base Zebra then?”

He fingered the scar on his left chin.

“I don’t know who or even what you are but I’m calling security right now!”

She carried on grinning.

“Now, now Charlie. You really must learn to control that temper of yours. If you’d take a look at the entry log you will see that both my fingerprint and DNA agree with my records that by some freak of mismanagement are still in the Station’s Personnel System”.

He turned back to his console and looked at a screen to his right.

Then he shook his head and shook his head.

“There is no way you can be Jerome Piggott. No fucking way darling.”

His eyes were locked on her huge breasts and tiny waist.

She smiled sweetly at him.

“Let’s say Charlie that I’ve have a little rebuild. Most of Jerome is long gone.”

She giggled.

“Pretty well everything apart from my brain and even that has been thoroughly overhauled. I call myself Marilyn now by the way.”

She twirled round.

“Don’t you like the new model then?”

To describe her as a cartoon figure would be a huge injustice to the cartoon figures of history. More of an amalgam of some real life and few cartoon characters.

She had long fine blonde hair that reached down past her waist. Her tiny waist that was at most 40cm. Her long legs (1m plus) were emphasised by high-heeled sandals with at least 14cm heels. All that was totally insignificant when compared to her breasts. In old measurements they would be 44G in size. These were perfectly formed and seemed to require little or no support. They didn’t but she wasn’t going to let on how this was done.

“Well Charlie? Would you refuse to buy someone like me a drink in a bar? You owe me a round from the last time we went drinking together. In the Half Moon I think it was, down on Earth in good old London Town? Does it still exist?”

Charlie looked rather sad at that.

He shook his head as he remembered it.

“No it does not. It was destroyed by the East Asian Rebels in 2115.”

He finally came to his senses.

“If you are really Jerome Piggott how the bloody hell did you end up looking like that? And where the hell have you been for these past… how many years?”

“Its Marilyn now remember? After the 1960’s Movie Star Marilyn Monroe.”

She smiled, “I’ve been away for 30 years 2 months and 5 days if that clock on your console is accurate.”

She walked towards him and hugged him. Her huge breasts squashed into his face. The new model was a good 30cm taller than the old one.

Eventually she let him go.

The smile on his face could not disguise the fact that he’d liked whatever it was that had just happened.

“As to where I’ve been?”

She paused for effect.

“For most of the time I’ve been away. About twelve and a half million light years from here give or take a few million light years. I’ve been with my good friends the GGeWq.”

Marilyn paused for effect.

“They rescued me from my escape pod just before I ran out of life support just past the orbit of Jupiter. They rebuilt me in the image in my dreams. Yes, there are little green men out there and they have been watching us for centuries. They are my friends. They are really quite nice to know once you get used to their quite rancid breath.”

Then she turned and walked out leaving them aghast.

A few minutes later the Radio messages from Earth arrived at the space station. They told them to be on the lookout for an armed and dangerous Alien life-form.
Charlie just sat and laughed.

“If that is an armed and dangerous life form, then roll it on. I’ll die a happy man if she were to kill me with those two bazooka’s.”

Meanwhile Marilyn had found the station’s bar.

To say she turned heads when she sauntered into the room would be a huge underestimation. If this were ‘Deep Space 9’ then a Ferengi would be salivating all over her. This wasn’t so at least 10 old space dogs were doing the job very nicely.

She wandered up to the bar and seemingly out of nowhere, she produced some gold bars.

She literally threw them down onto the bar and said, “Drinks all round. Keep them coming. There is plenty more where they came from.”

With a drink in one hand, she surveyed the room. Several of the old hands had been acquaintances of his in the old days. She smiled nicely at them. Two of them had to pop some nitro-g pills before they keeled over from shock.

She’d only been there a few minutes before Charlie from the control deck entered the Bar.

“Charlie, come on over and let me buy you a drink,” she shouted in a voice that was so seductive that he just forgot the reason why he’d come to the bar and walked right on over to him.

She thrust a drink into his hand.

“How can you be Jerome?” he whispered.

“Because I am,” she replied smiling.

She then wrote a number on a napkin and gave it to him.

“Remember that?”

Charlie went white in the face.

“How?”

She grinned.

“I’ve still got all my memories. Honed and tuned naturally but they are still there. So are you still hiding loads of gold from the taxmen then?” she whispered.

The number had been his safe deposit box number. The one that he’d had tattooed onto the underside of his left foot in Barcelona one particularly drunken leave. The only person who might have known it was Jerry (aka Jerome).

He downed the rest of his drink in one go.

Then to his surprise and to the amazement of the rest of the bar, she led him out of the bar with the words,

“Come on Charlie, I need to get laid and you’ve been selected to do the honours.”

Everyone rushed out of the bar behind the pair.

By the time the posse reached the corridor it was totally empty. They’d gone, vanished into thin air.

The reality was that they’d been transported back to her ship. She was going to lose her virginity with the very man who’d taken his back in 2099. As she leaned over on top of him, her breasts started pulsating gently. The Anti-gravity devices that were built into them were working perfectly….

[The End]

Authors Note
I started this story in May 2009 when I was in hospital getting my Immune System restarted after Chemo had killed what was left of it.
I was bored out of my mind. Watching daytime TV was pure mind numbing torture and not helped by virtually the whole of my body itching.
Late one night there was the classic Quatermass & the Pit on TV. This got me thinking about Science Fiction, real Space Adventure Sci-Fi not all that Fantasy stuff. Writers like Asimov, Heinlein, Clarke and far too many others to mention. I thought about ‘little green men’ and alien technology and how it could be integrated into a TG story. Obviously this sort of story has been done many times before. In this version, I was … fantasizing. If you take an old Sea Dog and offer him the chance to become the woman of his dreams (assuming he was not gay that is) what would be the outcome? Add in a bit of alien technology and here you are.
I have used some commercial characters and series in this tale. I recognise the owners of those trademarks and copyright. This story is pure parody and references them as historical points only after, all this story is set in the future isn’t it?