Warhammer 40K - Mixed Signals

A mighty black boot crunched down upon a fallen guardsmen's chest. Bohman, the leader of the Chaos Marines known as the Radiant Slaves, a Slaanesh dedicated traitor legion, stood before his followers. He was a twisted leader, who gathered followers and slaves alike with promises of pleasure and pain in exchange for service. Leading the army onward, the Chaos Marines plowed forth, tearing down both man and machine... anything that stood before them. But hope was not lost, for Imperial Guard sent troop after troop to defend their homeworld against this disastrous raid.
"Lord Slaanesh will guide us! You will fall, and we will turn this world inside out!" Bohman bellowed at the guardsmen.

Commissar Redfield stood with his arms held neatly behind his back, as bolter and lasgun fired responsive shots at one another. "MOVE FORWARD! SEND IN ARTILLERY!" He barked to the subordinates directly beside him. "We will NOT let these filthy scumdogs overrun out ground!" Redfield was a veteran, he knew war and he knew Chaos plenty. He'd fought his fair share, and sent many to their doom. Sometimes, however, Redfield's commands were lost to less than worthy soldiers. Typically, he barked his orders, they were followed, and the day was his.

But not today.

His troops charged forward, as a messenger ran and nearly toppled trying to stop himself as he ran under heavy fire.
"Sir! Commissar Redfield!" He called to the commander.
"What is it?" the aged Commissar answered quickly.
"It's our troops, we're nearly out from base, and the only ones left are the recruits! Most of them haven't even had time to master the basics..." He said, glancing away briefly.
"Damn..." Redfield replied. "How long until reinforcements can be sent and deployed?"
"Anyone's guess, sir." the Messenger explained. "But, you see... judging by the fact that this world is lightly inhabited, it's probable that this traitor legion calculated this out, and came while we were at our weakest."
"WE ARE NOT WEAK." The Commissar said, his words like stones dropping. "Those bastards planned this out. We must not fail! We must throw them off, at least until we can acquire more troops! Send out the recruits! But put them behind the rest. If it comes to it, they'll have to fight."
"Yes sir." The Messenger replied. "OH! Sir..."
"Yes, private."
The messenger looked away, holding a com link. After a moment he looked back, relaying information being sent.
"We have word from our sister planet. A contingent of Sisters are coming to our aid!"
"Sisters..." The Commissar snorted. "Well, we may as well take help were it's offered. Egotistical those sisters are... but at least we won't fall to the hands of those Slaanesh worshiping cretins!"
"Yes, sir." The messenger replied, before running off back into the heat of the back lines.

Several hours passed, and the forces of the Radiant Slaves had slowly come forward. Many guardsmen were felled, and although Chaos Marines too were lost, the rate and ratio was in Slaanesh's favour. "Where are those Sisters?!" Redfield shouted to nobody in particular. After a matter of fuming minutes later, it was heard before it was seen. The Slaanesh troops began firing into the sky, as Adepta Sororitas drop ships came from above. They would have all believe them sent from heaven. No matter how the Radiants fought, not one ship belonging to the Sisters was lost, though some took minor damage.
Upon hitting ground, Sisters piled out of the main doors, and charged through the lines to the front to face the Slaanesh marines.
A guardsman captain radioed to the Commissar.
"Commissar Sir! This is Captain Sands. The Sisters have made it to the front, and are pushing them back! We must continue our assault as the Sororitas assist us! But we'll need more guardsmen up here. Requesting the recruits for active engagement, sir!"

Commissar Redfield thought for a moment, then replied. "Permission granted, Captain." And with that, the Commissar ordered the recruits to the front, most of whom were frightened and not ready to fight the Chaos before them, even if it was being repulsed.
Another nervous communications array cut in. "Commissar, sir? We're not ready! We can't do this! And... and what if we're captured? I've heard about Slaanesh..."
"DO NOT SURRENDER. You will fight, and you will win. If you die, you die with honor! If you die, you die defending the Emperor and his Empire! You die for all of us and your brothers! Now get your squad to the front with the others, and KILL THOSE Slaanesh freaks!"
"Y-yes. Yes sir!" The voice called back, sounding more sure of itself on the second attempt.
"And remember, if it looks like it's ready to give you the eye... KILL IT! Those Slaanesh bastards have no concept of decency or restraint..."

Minutes later an Adepta Sororitas message came over the com link.
"COMMISSAR REDFIELD! Call your men off! Your recruits are attacking us!"