Disclaimer: No money, no RAM, no jelly donuts. Don't sue me.
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Angelus woke staring at an unfamiliar white ceiling. He was in the Apothecarium, the hospital on board the Knights Templars flagship, 'The Advent Glory'. A somber looking marine wearing the white-painted power armour of the Apothecaries, sans the helmet, walked up to his cot and said "Brother-Captian, you are awake. We found you after the battle, lying in the blood of a dozen traitors. The Emperor must have been watching over you... your armour was literally hacked apart..."
The medic-marine set a tray with a bowl of some bland-looking porridge on the table next to the cot. "You've been asleep for a few days, the porridge tastes better than the IV food, somewhat. You're free to leave afterwards Captian". "Thank you Brother Etera," Angelus said as the medic left to administer to other wounded marines. He finished the food quickly and left the Apothecarium. Without his armour on the Angelus stood a little shorter but was no less intimidating. His genetically-enhanced physique was more visible in the grey-ish, coarse tunic he was wearing. Suffice to say the most commonly quoted piece of text on the Space Marines applied to him, "They could crush a man's skull with their bare hands".
His trip through the the ship's halls was short, since it was his flagship he knew it inside and out. He arrived at his own quarters, the closest to the chapel housed in the depths of the starship. He thumbed the entry code into the pad outside and the door slide open with a quiet hiss. The inside of the room looked the same as any other on the ship, though it was more spacious, for company of course, and had more useful objects, as a Captain might need. Sitting in one of the chairs was a Tech Adept, dressed in the loose red robes of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Machine Cult. The Adept stood and bowed respectfully.
"It is good to see that you have recovered Captain. I was instructed to repair your power armour, but as you can imagine your suit was completely destroyed..." "WHAT!?" Angelus thundered, "That suit has protected me through a hundred years of battle! And..." The Adept cut him off, "And it has been consecrated by the Chaplain and returned to the Cathedral on Atriora for the proper services. In the meantime, I have taken the liberty of requisitioning a new Mark Seven suit of power armour. You will find no complaint with it." Angelus knew that though the servants of the Machine Cult were few on his ship, they were of high rank.
After a few dozen minutes of tinkering the Adept had armoured Angelus into his new suit. Power armour interfaces directly with a space marine's nervous system via the cybernetic implant known as the Black Carapace. The Carapace itself is strong enough to shrug off small calibur autogun rounds, and its ability to connect a marine to his armour meant that each warrior could live in their suits like a second skin. The fiber-bundles and servo-motors enhanced each movement, allowing marines to rend opponents limb-from-limb. Angelus flexed the gauntlet, feeling the hard, unyielding ceramite around his fist, that was his fist. "Thank you Adept," he said to the man. The Adept bowed and swiftly retreated from the Captain's quarters.
Angelus ceremoniously drew his powersword from its sheath at his belt and examined it. It had a few more nicks from the ordeal it suffered everytime it struck another heretic or xenogen. He sheathed the blade again and drew his beloved bolt pistol from its holster on the other side of his belt. The pistol was crafted from the finest materials on the forge world, Agripinaa and shone with a dull gold hue in the light of his room. Angelus picked up a magazine from his desk and loaded the pistol with a "clack" as the one-inch wide bolt slid into the firing chamber. He aimed it an imaginary foe, looking down its barrel with one eye closed, though his training had done away with such trivialities long ago.
He returned the pistol to its holster and picked up a datapad from desk. Activating the crystal matrix holographic image with press of a button, a slightly blueish picture of the Admiral of his ship popped up and said "Angelus as soon as you have finished with your armour head meet me on the bridge, we have need of you. Emperor Protect". The datastream ended. Placing the pad on the desk Angelus took off for the bridge.
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Editted on Decemeber 16, 2006