Kresst, while not the most sociable of Jedi on his own time, was at least capable of being professional. Even friendly. He might have even smiled, if he would have had the physical ability to make that expression. "Yes, thank you. You can...just call me Kresst. From your...demeanor, I think it is safe to assume you have seen to everything being ready for our departure." He commented. Just from his first impressions of Mevenn, he took her as being a more "military-oriented" Jedi. The armor gave that away rather strongly. Kresst could write volumes about why he felt that it was a horrible idea for any Jedi to fully embrace that kind of a mentality, but at the very least, it likely meant that she was a professional. She had probably showed up at the landing pad an hour early, performed three separate security sweeps of the ship, and mind-wiped all of the droids. 

As a courtesy, Kresst picked up his pace as they moved into the ship, expecting that she did not want to wait for him to stroll up the loading ramp. "Were you and your squad given the full explanation of what we will be doing?" Kresst asked. "I would think so, but it is never really wise to assume competence among the bureaucracy, now is it?" He chuckled. 

Kresst had his eyes on the clones, as they did on him. They had been [i]the[/i] core fixture of the military since the beginning of the war, and unquestionably valuable for safeguarding the Republic, but he still could not help but to have some pity for them. They were not droids, they were organics. People. It was true that they would not even exist if the Republic was not paying to create them, but the fact that they were still fighting without choice seemed far too close to slavery in his mind. Just one of the many reasons he had always wanted to avoid the war.