Well, like many current Chaos Marine owners, I've been deliberating on the coming changes to our beloved Codex. Anger, denial, trepidation... we've all been there. Then I thought to myself, hey! why not see if from a Marine's point of view? So here it is. Sorry for the amateurness of it, but it's (currently) the best I can do. Enjoy. 
Going Renegade: the Price to pay
by Vilegrimm
Brother-Sgt. Darque awoke to the sounds of klaxons ringing in the Citadel of Ages, home of the Holy Hands of the Emperor Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes. He quickly jumped off of his spartan cot and reached for his storm bolter. Grasping it firmly in a one handed grip, he dashed out of his small, plain looking room and entered the hall. Brother marines were moving purposefully up and down the hallway, some armed, some not. What the hell? Thought Darque to himself. This makes no sense. He moved off towards the central command room, carefully keeping his gun raised and ready to fend off intruders... if there were any.
Five tension filled minutes later Brother Darque found himself entering Central Command. Despite the irritable sound of the klaxons, no one here seemed to be in a battle state. Monitors were being watched over, but with a casual, relaxed atmosphere. More confused than ever, Darque glanced about until he spotted the massive presence of the Chapter Commander, Salazar Lightbearer. He started to move towards him.
“Ah, Brother Sergeant Darque, glad you're here! How'd the last Holy Vengeance attack go? Well, I take it? I just read the reports; fine work, just fine. Sorry for the early wake up call, by the way. Brother Stutz? Could we turn off those damned klaxons please? Ah, much better. Thank you.”
Commander Lightbearer held out his fist for Darque to clasp with his hands, in the fine tradition of their chapter. “So, Brother Sergeant, what can I do for you this fine morning?”
“Uh, if the Commander would be so willing, can you please tell me what this is all about? I see my brothers moving equipment and stockpiles up and down the halls. I hear the emergency klaxons but see no emergency. Should I be armoring up, prepared to fight the vile evil that is the emperor's foes? Or can I just go back to bed?”
Commander Lightbearer slapped his forehead. “Right! Of course! You've been on a campaign up until now...” He looked Brother Darque in the eye. “Brother; remember the questionnaire that we sent out to all the chapter while you were en route to Stalsis IX? The one asking about the state of the chapter, where we wanted to be in 100 years from now, etc.?”
“Why, yes, yes I do. My men and I filled it out promptly and sent them ba... are you telling me that all this commotion is the result of that?” Brother Darque looked around the room once more, giving it a more critical eye. “So, I'm guessing that the results have been tallied, and this is the start of our new commitments.”
“Astute as ever, Brother. Even now the rest of the chapter is gearing up, or down in some cases,” Lightbearer paused to chuckle, “But we took the questionnaire results to heart, and today starts our first day as Chaos Renegades. Kind of exciting, is it not?”
“WHAT?”
“Why, Brother Sergeant Darque, remember your blood pressure! Your hearts won't stand too much, you know. Oh, don't look at me that way, everyone had a chance to fill out the forms. And please point that storm bolter away from – in fact, you better turn that weapon in, you know. You're not allowed to have it anymore.”
Brother Sergeant Darque stopped, blinked twice, and looked again at his Commander. His eyes seemed to refocus. “Pardon me? I'm not allowed to have my storm bolter anymore?”
“That's correct. As per the usual practices of going renegade, you'll have to trade it in for a, hmmm, let's see, sorry, this is all new to me too, you know...” Salazar picked up a clipboard from a table beside him, and flipped through its pages. “Ah, here we are!” he said brightly. “A combi-bolter! You may carry a combi-bolter, according to this. It looks to be a nice little weapon, customizable too, but a bit top heavy, so don't try to shoot it while charging. Oh, and before I forget, here's your armor chit for upgrading.”
“Upgrading? Upgrading what?”
“Well, this chit allows you to add up to 25 spikes onto your armor, as well as 4 leering faces, daemonic or other. You can also add horns to your helmet, but if you're asking me, I think the plain look is still the best. When you're done here you can head down and talk to Admon the Black to set up an appointment for your armor.”
“Admon the What? Appointment – you mean Techmarine Admonius, don't you?”
“Shhh! Don't let him hear you say that! He's still a little upset that they have no Techmarines on the Chaos side, but he's trying his best to stay positive. Just humor him for now, okay? You have no idea how much they've taken away from him.” Commander Lightbearer looked at his clipboard again. “Yes, here it is. Land Raider Crusaders, Land Speeders, Whirlwinds, Attack Bikes, and those were his favorites to ride you know, Drop Pods, all gone now.”
“Gone? What do you mean? We still have them in our armories. I should know; we brought some back with us last night.”
“Well, yes, I mean gone in the sense that we can no longer use them. Regulations, and all that. So for now we're decommissioning them and putting them in storage. Just in case we don't like Chaos, you now.”
“Excuse me? If we don't like it? How will putting them in storage help?”
“Ahhh,” said Salazar, “We've heard rumours of another Chapter having gone Renegade, mutated up to their eyestalks, but somehow managed to restabilize their geneseed and turn back to the Light. So if they can do, so could we.”
Brother Darque shook his head, as if to clear out the aftereffects of a bad dream. “Look, Commander, I apologize for my current attitude, but this is a little too much to take in all at once. Permission to go and talk to Chaplain Juzta?”
“Hmm? Oh, right. Sorry, Brother Sergeant Darque, but that will no longer be possible” Salazar held up his hand. “Now, wait, I know what you're going to say, but let me explain. According to these forms, one of the Traitor Legions holds all the rights to Chaplains on the Chaos side, although they call them something different these days. But the long and the short of it is that all our Chaplains had to rejoin the ranks of the regulars. Oh, they weren't happy with that, I can tell you, but we're trying to mollify them by offering them first shot at becoming Obliterators. Apparently we can have lots of them, whatever they are.” Commander Salazar laid a friendly hand on Brother Darque's shoulder. He smiled encouragingly at him. “Look. I realize things seem a little, well okay, a lot confusing right now, but it is the way the chapter voted, and if you give yourself some time, you'll come to terms with it. Look on the bright side; you've got a wonderful name to start with. I have to find something more suitable than Lightbearer. Really, who's going to take a Daemon Prince named Lightbearer seriously?”
Despite himself, Brother Darque smiled. “Ok. Say I can wrap my head around this whole thing without it exploding. What are our benefits?” Darque's mind flashed back to 2 decades before, when they fought the forces of Chaos on the Gormaddin Plains. “Say, those girl-daemons of Slaanesh... perhaps we could summon some of them up? Make the uh, the Chaplains happy?” He smiled lasciviously.
“Ooh, sorry there, but no can do. A new memo came attached to this.” He held up his clipboard. “Apparently we can only summon some kind of Genero-Daemon, in Lesser or Greater sizes. But they are promising us some daemons like those we've fought, once they've worked out some bugs they're encountering in summoning.” He checked his clipboard again, flicking to the last page. “On the plus side, they're offering us a discount on mutations, and some quick summoning rites to get us started with a squad or two of Possessed. Awfully nice of them, I thought.”
Darque sighed heavily, then placed his storm bolter down onto the table beside him. “Well, I guess if I could make it through the training to become a Space Marine, I should be able to get through this. Still, it's an awful lot to take in at once. So, the Chaplains are gone, you say? What about our Librarians?”
“Sorcerers.”
“Sorcerers? Really? That would be interesting, I suppose.” He looked down at his white, gold trimmed sleeping robe and shrugged. “I guess we're going for a new name and look, too.”
Salazar smiled. “Of course. The Holy Hands of the Emperor doesn't quite make the cut. Maybe I'll generate a few ideas, and poll the lads.”
“So,” asked Darque, “Anything else I should be made aware of?”
“Remember our Apothecaries?”
“Yesss...”
“Well, we don't have them anymore. Sounds like we won't need them, really. And you're First Company, aren't you? Right. Anyway, we're going to be looking at limiting the number of heavy weapons your Terminators can carry, unless you have a lot of them. Terminators, that is. And we're losing the Assault Cannons.”
Darque looked at his Commander disbelievingly. “Pardon? We're not going to be using our most effective weapon anymore? How is that?”
Commander Salazar looked uncomfortable. “Ummm, apparently at the end of the First Hostilities between Imperium and Chaos forces, some kind of unofficial arrangement was made in the divvying up of arms. We, that is, Chaos, lost the right to use Assault Cannons.”
“Of course,” said Darque, sarcastically.
“But,” Salazar said encouragingly, “Our Terminators have access to Reaper Autocannons. Nasty sounding, aren't they?”
“Yes, but what do they do?”
“Pardon?”
“What do they do?”
“Well,” ventured Salazar the Troubled, “I'm not quite sure. No one is, really. But we have access to them.”
“Great,” muttered Darque the Moody. “Well, if you have no other items of great import to add, then, Commander, I'll take my leave to go and hand in my prized weapon for a, what was it again?”
“A combi-bolter.”
“Right, a combi-bolter. Then I guess I'll go and get my armor re kitted. Do we have a new color yet? I suppose white is out.”
“Why, yes we do. Black. We're going Very Midnight Black.”
Why am I not surprised? Thought Darque the Moody to himself. “And should I have any specific icons of blasphemy added to my pauldrons?”
Commander Salazar the Troubled put his hand to his chin, and pulled slightly. “Mmm, I think just a general Star of Chaos would be acceptable. We haven't yet had a chance to check out the various packages for being God Specific with Chaos yet.” He made a note on the front page of his clipboard. “Let me think about a name, and get back to you on that. You are dismissed, Darque.”
With a quick fist-to-chest salute, Renegade Darque the Moody turned about and headed for his room to gather up his armor and weapons. He looked down at his storm bolter as he strolled along. So, I can't use you anymore, can I? But I thought the thing about being Chaos was that we didn't have to follow procedures. As he entered his room, he knelt down and opened up his private storage trunk. With a great reverence, he placed his storm bolter in it, then locked it once again. Maybe, just maybe, he thought to himself, I'll be able to use you again. Apparently the rules can change, after all.
ed me of when i chose chaos, but at least we get Kharn, and abaddon, and typhus, and all the other fancy 
/ 
, 
, 
....and Bretonnia 
poor 
