I AM CAPTAIN Daincaz Kesaeal of 8th Company of the Primaris Space Marine Chapter Sons of the Phoenix, and this may be my final entry in the ship’s log.
Half of my men have been lost, and I bear the weight of blame.
In the wake of joining the Lord Commander of the Imperium Roboute Guilliman and his great crusade, it is our righteous cause to liberate the Emperor’s faithful from the grasp of this calamitous Great Rift, and to defend the Imperium from its encroaching darkness. My heart burns with purpose. The Rift scattered many fleets of the Imperium, and counted amongst those missing are my own. However, one resplendent day, the Sons of the Phoenix shall be whole again.
Until then, we are lost.
Blown off-course by the turbulent warp, my astropath ominously perished, along with several navigators. The few to survive were overcome by insanity. Without them, we are blind. Was this a deliberate assault from the malignant energies of the warp or merely an unpredictable happenstance?
Reestablishing contact with the Imperium is imperative in carrying onward with our noble mission. In my eagerness, I deployed 10th Company’s vanguard, some of which are attached to my command and available at my disposal, to the only planet we located suitable for surface reconnaissance. Fine warriors all, but none my own. While 8th Company lay in wait, the vanguard reported sighting of what resembled a fortress-monastery just before their comms grew dark. Swiftly, I dispatched two squads of my own, one to locate the last established beacon of the missing vanguard, while the other struck for the monastery itself with the belief that, perhaps soon, we may return to our fleet.
Confirmed reports returned of long lost Imperial ruins, but the vanguard’s whereabouts yet remained unknown. Abruptly, my squads’ comms went dark. Was there interference surrounding the monastery, perhaps?
Sons of the Phoenix shall not abide by incessant waiting. Lingering about without action disturbs even the most disciplined of the Adeptus Astartes. Confidently, half my warriors deployed to the surface. Whatever the adversary, nothing may withstand an entire demi-company of the Sons of the Phoenix, commanded by one of my faithful lieutenants. With renewed conviction, I awaited for further report.
And continued to wait long after their comms went dark.
What is this profound silence, this yawning unknown? Left to my own thoughts, uncertainly festers. Have I errored by allowing 10th Company’s vanguard to bear the risks alone? Perhaps the darkness of this wretched place is what’s casting doubts upon my impeccable judgment.
I am blind, yet I see my way is clear. Whatever has swallowed half my men is an emphatic threat to the Imperium, and as such, I condemn this fowl planet—and myself. 8th Company is pulling out. Though loathing my final command, I entrust my second lieutenant, Xiandor Raiznor, to carry on with our mission to reunite with our fleet or to discover whomever shall lend aid in this endeavor.
Many have been lost at my command. Honour bound, I must rectify this grievous error. I, and the select few to volunteer, shall learn of their fate, whether to fight alongside our brothers or to avenge them. I pray to the Emperor. Not for myself, but for the warriors who have placed their faith in me, and for the perpetuity of my Chapter. No matter how vast we have been scattered, the Sons of the Phoenix shall become whole again.
Captain Daincaz Kesaeal, signing off
The Musing of R. L. Frymire 
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