The impact was relatively cushy as the Caestus rammed into the side of the Dark Eldar raiders' lead ship. Aldaric waited impatiently as the mechanical countdown finished and the doors dropped open to form a heavy ramp onto the floor of an empty lower corridor in the abhorrent xenos' vessel. Heartening words rang over the killteam's vox communicators. Fear however, was not a problem. They had their orders, which were to rapidly ascend to the bridge and dispatch the raiding party's leadership, thus routing the rest of the foolish Dark Eldar who had unwittingly attacked the Imperium's specialized xeno-hunting taskforce mid-space. Educating these xeno scum would be most satisfying indeed.

The killteam that had been sent to this task however, was nacent. The Deathwatch captain was present in communication only, having said nothing of individual responsibilities in the field or provided any hint of on-the-ground organization or tactics. They were all equal now, brothers, and they had to figure this one out on their own. 

Aldaric found the lack of immediate clarity in what their individual actions were to be irritating, but there was no time to get to know each other. Quickly, even before they made contact, he considered each of their chosen armaments and began to rationalize their best use based on that and what little he knew of his new teammates. It was a roll of the dice how any of this was about to go. 

Draskal had already stepped out to investigate the corridor when Aldaric's suspensory device finally released him. Once freed, the impatient former captain immediately went to work on what he saw was their greatest problem at the moment, the lack of a plan. 

"We're clear." Stated the space marine who was more machine than man. 

Aldaric noted the floating familiar by his side which he had used to safely enhance his sight. Drascal also had ranged weapons, which would be far more useful on the  inside of a spacecraft than his missle launcher, more than likely. A quick glance around spotted a stormshield, carried by Victor Ironmarch, certainly a most useful bulwark. There was Sirren with a mighty chainsword, Zaphiel with a combi-flamer, and Kurt with his much lighter armor and potential vulnerability. 

Aldaric's brow furrowed seriously above his mechanical left eye as he scrutinized. The team's hesitation was killing him, the moment of quiet was an inferno of infuriation. Finally, unable to stand for it any longer, he simply, acted. Holding his own sniper bolter at the ready, he turn to those he named specifically. "Victor. Drascal. I want you two to take point. Find their bridge. Sorrow, you're behind them to provide cover as needed. As soon as we clear an area, Draskal can blow up the next door so we can move in..." 

Aldaric didn't bother with apologies or any statements of the obvious. He simply did what he had always done. It was his job, his role, and he expected no recognition for it. There was a gap that needed to be filled, and he simply provided the spackle. He had no idea whether or not he would be heeded, or hated, but he went on regardless. "We will be moving fast, so Kurtis, I need you specifically to call 'in-back' if anything pursues us from that direction. As for the rest of us, do what you do best and eliminate all hostiles." Aldaric knew that only experience would show each of their strengths and weaknesses. He primed his weapon and began moving down the left hall, letting the anger at his enemies fill his heart and drive his resolve. "We rally on Zaphiel if we get separated, so keep track of him at all times. Speed is of the essence brothers. Let us show these xenos how a proper assault is conducted."

There was no rational for sneaking around. This would be a guns-blazing, blitzkrieg assault, one that the enemy was hopefully completely unprepared for.