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Late September, 1857
Walker's City (Managua), Republic of Central America

"Well, gentlmen, welcome to Walker's City, or, if I was to be so bold, my city." The British and American diplomats looked skeptically at their host, the 33-year old who many in Europe referred to as a "Modern-day Alexander". He was clean-shaven, his black hair was combed just right, and he had a painful-looking smile. He looked more like a young parson than a conqueror, resting on his laurels.

"I'm glad you could come, to see this momentous day. This is the day that our mutual culture proves to be superior." As they mounted a carriage, driven by a dapper Negro, the diplomats found themselves in a massive parade. The close-quarterd Latin American streets were flooded with whites, cheering for their President. The dapperly clad soldiers of the new republic, with their green-jackets spotless and their bayonets glittering, marched gaily in front of a brass band, playing many newly written pieces (including "The Mosquito March" and "Gallant Schlessinger"). As the parade wound down to the Presidential Palace, boos erupted from the crowd. Straining their necks to look behind them, the two diplomats saw the Presidents and leading Generals of the other Central American states, now defunct.

Walker and his two guests dismounted and walked up to a table, set up on the plaza in front of the palace. On the table was the instrument of surrender for the conquered. Walker smiled at the vanquished as they walked up.

"Gentlemen, here are you pens. Just sign in the blank spot at the bottom of the paper." They did so. Walker signed it afterwards, and then wove it in the air to the cheers of the crowd.

"My fellow citizens, this paper shows that our efforts have not been in vain! We have laid waste to those that would oppose our divine mission, and have proven that, even against almost insurmountable arms, we can triumph over anything that comes our way! Long live our Republic!" Any more speechmaking was drowned out by the crowds deafening roar.

That night, the American and the British diplomat sat at the same table, sharing drinks, while "Victory Day" was being celebrated outside.

"So, what do you think?" The American looked at his nearly silent British counterpart.

"I don't know. The slavery issue is, of course, major. But, the fact he has handily made us a protectorate out of the Bay Islands is a nice touch."

"Yeah. But I still don't know. He's depopulated most of Dixie, with so many planters coming down here with their slaves. Hell, some stretches of Virginia and the Carolinas are just... empty."

"I know that. My government will pressure him with the slavery issue, yet his idea to build a canal accross his country? That might make him a valuable asset."

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see, my friend."

"Yes, we will."

In silence, they watched the celebrations unfold.
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