"This is a corpse," Florbeek said. Bear in mind, his name is not actually "Florbeek," but it the closest approximate spelling to the sounds of his name.

"We are aware, sir," Nalpod said. See the note on Florbeek's name? Yeah, that applies to Nalpod's as well.

"We found him like this," Walrus added. His name actually is Walrus. It's a surprising anomaly of linguistics that every planet has at least one language that makes use of "walrus" in some capacity. Theories abound, but no one really cares but the linguists, and the last linguist we all cared about was better known for his fiction writing.

"Well, clearly. He is well decayed."

"Yes, but he is their leader," Walrus tried again. He felt it was important to justify the find as he'd had to do the digging. And by hand as the digging bot had refused to desecrate corpses. He would have to talk about a reprogramming session at the next bot care meeting, though he suspected it would have him watching another sensitivity training.

"So you are saying the humans actively follow this rotted body?"

"Worship might be a better word." Nalpod said, while sliding in front of Walrus. Her partner was sometimes... oversensitive about failure. She'd still not figured how they had screwed up, but this was obviously not right, based on the wobble of Florbeek's flanges. The captain was growing more angry the more Walrus spoke, but her words seemed to have calmed him some. "There are impossible stories of him. One of my favorites is a preposterous claim that he was shot by an assassin, survived, and mocked the man's failure in a speech immediately after. Ah the legends these humans create, embellishing the lives of their heroes."

She had stopped watching Florbeek as she rambled on, or she'd have shut her vocal flap on the word "favorites" on seeing his flanges. They shook like a flag in a hurricane.

"Clearly, this Theodore Roosevelt is not the active leader of these backwards yokels. I'm giving you a second chance here to get it right. Now go."

"Do you want us to put him back?" Walrus pointed at the corpse.

"I don't care, as long as you get it out of my ship," he said, and disappeared through the wall leading to his personal quarters, hoping a soak in some hexane would relieve his stress.

"I told you we had the wrong one," Walrus whispered.

"I know, I know."

"Ok, so you can dig up Franklin yourself."

"Fine, but at least help me put this one back."