"I agree with you, brother Draskal." The old habit of referring to one's battle brothers as 'brother' slipped into Aldaric's speach subconsciously. It may have seemed odd to other chapters, but it strengthened the sense of kinship and ultimately cohesion in battle. As promised, the descendant of the Iron Hands made an explosive entrance and undoubtedly cleared the first room. They probably wouldn't be opening every blocked door that way, but the first one was an excellent announcement of their intentions, to rend these xeno fools. 

The team moved forward swiftly, weapons ready, keeping to their light sense of formation. First room cleared, they took a right and proceeded until they came to what could only be described as Dark Eldar hell. A grand atrium opened up above them. The room was dark and massive and full of wailing. Chambers along either wall housed pathetic animals that had once been human. Centrally, there were numerous torture stations, each stationed by one of the pale, long-limbed fiends. The humans, for the most part, were alive. The xenos wanted them that way. Many however were on the brink of death for various reasons, be it that they were being repetitively electrocuted, hung by nails in their skin, or slowly flayed so badly that their limb had to be removed. Any kind of suffering was a source of power to the Dark Eldar. All their ships had slave chambers like this one, designed for the pure pleasure of torture. 

Perhaps this was what Captain Roa had tried to warn them about before the vox had died. Aldaric hesitated briefly before swiftly lifting his bolter rifle and putting a slug into a surprised Eldar skull. "Contact!" 

Why had the vox communications died? That question lingered in the back of his mind like a stalker as he walked forward killing Dark Eldar tormentors with each shot. He needed to reach Roa, immediately, because he needed to ask... Beneath his helm, Aldaric's brow furrowed in... pain? These people were suffering, and the very thought of it was anathema against his breeding for sympathy. Yet his eyes were forced to witness the forced agony and mutilation of his own species before him, females, males, the young and old. All in the Deathwatch knew Dark Eldar drew strength from the pain of their slaves. In fact they needed it to survive. But was it his duty to cull these innocent humans right here and now? Aldaric needed orders for this situation, but damned if he was going to get them. 

As the unspoken leader of the kill team, he would be expected to make a call, and he knew he would personally be held responsible for whatever choice he made. If he ordered his brothers to kill these people, the enemy would be deprived of their strength, and the people would finally be relieved of their suffering. Yet, to kill his own was... abhorrent to such a degree it might as well have been impossible. Freeing them, or any attempt to ease their agony would take time they didn't have to give. Leaving them however, not only grated against his morals like a dull razor but would leave the enemy with an intact source of psychic energy, making the bridge above all the harder to take.