N'croth, M'haeli
At the best of times padawans didn't always get the best of missions, psuedo-padawans like her even less so. But she had heard that there had been some sort of Jedi-Con on Yavin, and people had been worried about padawans hanging out with the wrong sort, and getting into trouble, and that had just made things worse. Not that Layla was bothered by that, she was okay with staying at the temple and minding her own business, she had no interest in handing out with the wrong sort. But that hadn't been the extent of the discussion, and there was renewed interest in the AgriCorps. And so another level of bad had been added to the list of missions that you could be sent on, and this one she did care about. She hated agriculture, being in nature, getting your hands dirty, she didn't like any of that.
The Jedi she was with, whom she kept on giving nervous glances as they walked through the streets of N'croth, had probably pissed off the wrong people and had been assigned what was the double whammy. Babysit a youngling while on an AgriCorp assignment. Layla assuming she was as pissed at the situation as she herself would have been, even though she had seemed perfectly polite on their flight over, and was quiet as they walked, giving her careful nervous glances while doing her very best to avoid eye contact. Not that she needed a reason to be quiet, it was almost her default state of being.
Regardless of the reason for her being quiet, she was quiet, keeping her focus on how great she would be on this mission. She wasn't really good at talking with strangers, and from what she knew this mission was just going to be a lot of talking with suppliers and farmers and buying the right equipment, fertilizers, seeds, and a bunch of other stuff. She wasn't really sure how farming worked, but she was sure it definitely involved those three. Social skills, and required knowledge, the only two things she needed, the two things she didn't have. And of course, as was to be expected, things somehow got worse. She sensed something, or to be more precise heard it, and suddenly she had a whole other reason to be worried. Picking up her pace, she almost bumped into Sarella and nudged her to get her attention.
"I think," she whispered as she glanced back over her shoulder, "I think we're being followed."