Guardians of the Zone: Mission to Varnax part 2: Sources and Sluts

The Starlight Jackal exited Negative Zone hyperspace with a hiss. Rocket had a contact that offered information...for a price. The contact left a signal. An encrypted one. But that led them here.

Tracking the signal led the crew of the Starlight Jackal to a seedy, lawless world in the edge territories of the Negative Zone. Its surface glowed with neon filth and dust storms, orbiting a decaying red dwarf star. The city of Krathex buzzed with lowlifes, mercenaries, and black-market trades.

Their source was located in a high-stakes casino known as The Gravity Well, a glitzy spire looming over the slums. It was owned by House Varnax sympathizers and operated under draconian codes—especially for women, who were treated as property.

Susan’s face tightened when Rocket explained the plan. “You want me to play what?”

“My eye-candy,” Rocket said, grin wide. “You pretend to be my ditzy little trophy. That way, no one sees the real threat.”

“I’m a literal **** of nature.” Sue sighed clenching a fist.

“And tonight, you’re a sparkly one. Trust me, Barbie. You’ll be the smartest dumb blonde there.” He assured her this would be the best way. Maybe the only way.

Susan sighed and looked down at the nanobyte infused outfit Yolo had fabricated for her: a tight, shimmering silver mini-dress with plunging neckline, stilettos, and a faux gemstone collar. She hated how well it fit as she looked in the mirror. Yolo knew her curves too well. The little robot pervert. Her breasts threatened to burst from the dress.

“Fine,” she said, pulling it on fully. “But you owe me dinner. And a real one—not freeze-dried taco packs.”

Rocket licked his lips. “Deal.”

Hours later they entered the casino arm-in-arm. Rocket wore a white tuxedo tailored to his frame, smug and puffing his cigar like a crime lord. Susan leaned on him, giggling and pretending to be tipsy, her eyes scanning everything.

They were led to a private booth where a Varnax contact waited—a bloated purple thing with three eyes and a gold monocle.

Rocket handled the small talk. Susan played the role to perfection, draping herself across his lap and sipping glowing drinks while listening carefully.

"Information comes at a price!" The three eyed being asked, ogling the busty blonde girlfriend of Rocket. "Ten thousand credits!"

Sue tried to keep her mouth shut, but she couldn't help it. "That's like...a lot...right?" She twirled her hair. "Do you like boobs?" Sue asked suddenly surprising everyone at the table. "I'll let you like...suck mine for a better price!"

Sure as shit, the fat alien took the deal. Sue sat in his lap, and the alien pulled the dress down. The eager alien watched in glee as two human orbs plopped free. He ran his green tongue over her boobs and Sue cringed. Her hand made its way to a small bulge. She knew the play. Rocket smoked and drank, Sue had her tits sucked while she reached in and began to jerk off the alien. Her hand diving into his pants. A small cock. Weird bumps. Didn't take her long. Her tits were the key. The three eyed Varnax traitor came in his pants.

The source bought her a drink and they flirted while she sat on his lap. But time was getting late. Too much time and biometrics might pick them up.

Rocket and the alien source again spoke, with Sue now on the aliens lap.

As the intel flowed, she winked twice—Rocket’s cue.

“Time to go,” he murmured.

They left with the data chip they needed, Rocket’s hand firmly on Susan’s waist.

Once outside, she dropped the act, rolling her eyes.

“You enjoyed that too much.” She remarked.

Rocket grinned. “Barbie, you made that look criminal.”

She smacked his shoulder but didn’t let go of his hand.

Back aboard the Starlight Jackal, the echoes of the casino planet still lingered in the minds of the Guardians of the Negative Zone. The hum of the ship’s systems returned like a familiar lullaby as the team settled into their roles.

Groot clambered up the outer hull of the ship, weaving fresh bark through the ruptures from their earlier skirmish. Each crack hissed with escaping pressure before being sealed by his living repairs.

Inside, Yologarch—"Yolo"—hovered before the data console, the chip from the casino gripped in a multi-tool appendage. “Initializing secure decryption protocol... This may take time,” he muttered, light from the monitors reflecting off his polished chrome chassis.

Rocket paced nearby, a cigar dangling from his mouth. He should have been focused on security logs. Or possible Varnax countermeasures. But his mind? It was completely hijacked by the image of Susan Storm lounging nearby.

She had returned to the Jackal still wearing her infiltration outfit from the casino—a skintight, silver minidress both daring and elegant. The deep V revealed the cleavage that the three eyed alien lost his mind ove. Her blonde hair was tied up in a loose, casual twist that let a few strands fall around her face. Her long legs, adorned in laced silver heels, were propped across the arm of the lounge chair as she scrolled through ship diagnostics like it was nothing. Like she wasn't dressed in such a manner. Like she wasn't a walking boner.

Rocket blinked, then again. “Barbie, I swear—I’m tryin’ to focus here, but you sittin’ there lookin’ like the galaxy’s most dangerous fantasy ain’t helpin’.”

Susan looked up from the monitor with a sly smile. “The mission may have been degrading… playing dumb, dressing like that." She made an admission, "But also? It was kind of exhilarating. The adrenaline. The attention. And the way you looked at me—made me feel like a goddess with a laser pistol.”

Rocket tilted his head, then tossed his blaster on the nearby table. “Yeah, well, the mission’s over. And now, it’s time for the best kind of post-op recovery: terrible movies and couch games!”

Sue put the roll out holo computer on the same table. "You have a one track mind furball." She said but stood up and followed the eager Racoon.

They made their way to the holo-movie lounge: a low-lit, circular room with tiered recliners and a full-wall curved screen. Fiber-optic threads in the ceiling sparkled like a mock night sky. A snack dispenser hummed in the corner, and holo-posters lined the walls, flickering between retro galactic B-movie advertisements.

Rocket pushed a comm button on the wall, letting the entire ship know. “I swear on Groot’s last leaf—if anybody interrupts us for the next hour, I’m settin’ the defense drones to stun.”

“Just stun?” Susan asked, standing beside him.

“Fine. I'm spacing fools.” He laughed at his threat and let the comm go. He hopped up on the plush movie style loveseat and grabbed Sue's head. The two began to kiss passionately. A black animal like tongue slapping with a human. Sue sat down on the loveseat and lifted her dress. She spread her legs suggestively exposing a shaved pussy, with slick wet lips.

Rocket gripped his prick in his suit pants. He could feel her powers unzipping his fly, and pulling his pants and underwear down. "Where are your panties?" He asked his hard cock being fished out by and unseen hand. He was so used to her powers he didn't even flinch.

"What panties?" Sue smiled seductively spreading her legs even more so the right one dropped over the back of the seat and the left dropped off the front of the red fluffy movie seat. Rocket got between her legs. He sank down and pushed his cock inside her. "Ohhhh baby," she moaned. "I wanted you to fuck me in the casino ," she admitted.

He began pumping his cock into her. Thrusting his hips. The two kissed deeply. He was pumping harder and faster now. Her wet pussy squished with her juices. "I'm cumming baby," she cried out. "Cum with me."

The Racoon anti-hero wasn't far behind. He stuffed his entire pink cock into her human pussy. She kissed him and squeezed his balls. Rocket groaned and began to cum inside his human woman.

The pair kissed and shared a much needed and relaxing orgasm. When they were done, both got naked. Long ago, this ritual came about. No need for clothes at your own movie theater. Sue kept her heels on. He'd want that.

The naked pair made their way to the snack area, set up like a movie concession stand. It was at the top of the room. Sue got a drink. And some candy. Rocket was on popcorn duty. She wasn't sure what movie he'd put on.

The nude woman in heels poured Baluuran Whiskey in the soda. She sipped it and almost coughed. Just right. She then walked in her heels down the lit aisle to the darkened room with the seats. She called back. "Don't get butter on your cock dude. I'm not letting that thing in me again with butter on it."

Rocket joked she could "lick it off".

Sue sat in the seat and Rocket joined her. When the movie started Susan cuddled up to her boyfriend. "What we watching?"

The movie title shown. "CRACKCOON!"

Rocket loved his shitty movies.

As they disappeared into the holo-flick,

Yolo worked alone in the command chamber.

“Decryption complete,” the robot intoned. “Analyzing contents... Warning: encrypted memory cluster contains classified Varnax military intelligence.”

Yolo’s optic flickered. “Subject: Phase Gate Expansion. Target: Earth. Secondary Target: Negative Zone Nexus Core. Alert Level: Cataclysmic.”

He hovered to the door of the lounge, reached a metallic limb toward the button... then paused. From behind the sealed doors, muffled laughter and other less decipherable sounds trickled into the hallway.

Yolo spun in a slow circle, mumbling diagnostics to himself. “Protocol advises immediate briefing... Emotional protocol advises patience.”

He paced the hallway for a full hour, hovering in anxious loops.

When the lounge doors finally hissed open, Susan stepped out wearing only Rocket's undershirt, her hair now down.

Rocket followed in his pants shirtless. “You survive, Yolo?” Rocket asked, brushing crumbs from his fur.

Yolo finally presented the data chip. “Yes. But you may not like what I’ve found.”

Rocket took the chip. “Buddy, that’s always the case.”

Susan glanced at Rocket, tension flickering across her features. The post-mission high was over. It was time to face what came next.

Yologarch tapped the ship’s account registers and issued a digital charge for one night’s stay in Docking Bay Omega. The bay itself sprawled like a cathedral of metal ribs, ships nested in padded cradles, maintenance crawlers darting beneath hulls. Overhead, maintenance gantries hummed as repair droids flitted like metallic moths.

In his private suite carved into the bay’s cavern wall, Groot wove luminescent vines across fractured bark panels, shaping his sanctuary. The floor was soft earth, the air rich with the scent of resin, and bioluminescent mushrooms cast a gentle glow as he curled into a living hammock of wood and moss—his species’ way of sleeping.

Above, Rocket and Susan ascended to the Starlight Jackal’s main bedroom. Their sanctuary reflected both lives: one half sleek, hardware-lined starship command center, the other warm, textured home filled with Earth mementos. A large viewport framed the swirling hazard zones, while shelves held a terrarium of miniature coral and a stack of human novels.

Susan reclined on their king-sized platform bed, wearing Rocket’s oversized charcoal T‑shirt—logo faded (which was a mocking Fantastic "4" crossed out with a scribbled minus sign and a '1' then a plus sign with a paw)—a pair of soft black shorts showing her ass cheeks, and knee-high blue socks that peeked over the duvet. A small holo-table glowed at her side, where she meticulously analyzed Varnax data.

Rocket perched on the edge, swirling whiskey in a crystal tumbler. “Jesus, Barbie—brain’s spinning faster than the Zedrones.” He took a drag of his cigar and flicked ash into a steel tray. His eyes on her ass. Again distracted by his paramour.

She shot him a look. “I’m trying to decrypt the Varnax plans. And you’re basically a smoldering distraction.”

He grinned, patting the open space beside him. “Best kind of distraction.”

Susan rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “And this is progressing my work how?”

Rocket shrugged. “It’s ‘co-captain support.’”

She sighed, tapping the holo-icon. “The data says their next phase gate will open a corridor straight to Earth’s solar nexus." She sighed. "That's why they want the cube. It powers the phase gate." She knew they'd come for it.

Rocket’s eyes widened. “Son of a—”

She snapped the holo-shield down. “And that’s enough doom for one night.”

Leaning in, she whispered, “Ready for anothrr operation? Operation Hottub!"

Rocket’s grin turned hungry. “Lead the way.”

Hand in hand, they left the command bed and slipped into the adjoining en suite bathroom. Its polished obsidian tiles reflected the twin moons overhead, and the raised jacuzzi glowed with soft ripples. On a side table, wine, whiskey, and clean cigars waited.

Before the drinks and smokes, Susan wanted to play. She flipped her top off, her tits bouncing free. So Rocket could see, she bent down and pulled off her shorts. Her pussy exposed for him to see. Well fucked from earlier but inviting. Then one sock at a time, letting him take in her ass. Sue bent down to turn on the water and the jets. She didn't hear much and wondered what he was doing. She turned to see her furry lover nude, prick at attention saluting her. "You joining me?"

Rocket made his way into the tub. Susan let him settle. She straddled his waist and sank right down on his prick. Susan Storm began a slow steady cock ride of Rocket Racoon, hearing him grumble each time she sank her wet pussy. Who's libido was more active. It was up to debate. They were always ready to go if they weren't going.

Sue kissed his lips and sank her pussy down impaling herself fully. She swirled her hips. Rocket pushed his hips up, and Susan mewled cumming on the cock stuffed inside her. Another kiss, and she felt his cum fill her womanhood.

Sex was easy. Like eating. Like sleeping

Like breathing to them.

Satisfied, Susan pulled off, and poured red wine as Rocket topped off their glasses. Steam curled upward as they sank into the warm water. Rocket's cum poured from Sue into the tub. Not a care for that.

She offered him a cigar, lighting it for him. “My turn,” she said, accepting a flame.

Smoke and steam mingled as they relaxed, the tension of the mission dissolving into gentle waves and shared laughter. Debating how funny the "handjob job" was as they called the previous mission. It was starting to already become a inside joke between two lovers.

When they emerged, cloaked in towels, the world felt both urgent and tender. They returned to their bed and intertwined under soft blankets, lips brushing, hearts syncing in the quiet.

Finally, the holo-screen dimmed, the last embers of cigar smoke drifting upward, and they drifted off—co-captains, lovers, ready for the next chapter.