Queen of the Cowboys

Conquest

The sun rose over Jolliet the next morning and Kristine's forces were already saddled up and ready to go. At some point in the night, a couple of cowboys had decided to make banners with her signature crown insignia, and they volunteered to act as bannermen. It was touching in a strange way, but from a strategic viewpoint, it would just slow them down and ruin any element of surprise they had. Kristine told them to stow the banners away and bring them out once they took the city.

At times, Kristine thought the "Queen" thing got out of hand. It wasn't even her idea. It was a nickname she'd acquired shortly after her decision to take matters into her own hands to help people, and it stuck and spread like wildfire. She got so used to pulling out the "Queen" façade whenever she needed to inspire respect or fear that now she wasn't sure where Kristine ended and the Queen began; both of them were such an integral part of her identity.

Her gang, the hundreds of people under her command, was split into five groups to help with speed and to take the city from all sides, each headed by members of her inner circle. The plan was nearly flawless, especially with the assistance of Mr. Thompson's letter, may he rest in peace. The only concern she still harbored was the unpredictability of the lake side of the city. While her forces were formidable, water-based battles were not where their strengths lie. The lakes and waterways were typically used for trade, but that didn't mean warships couldn't get through, too.

When the sun just cleared the horizon and the pink wisps of sunrise were fading, Kristine threw her head back, gave a whoop and holler, and was off in a flash, a blur of red at the head of a thunderstorm of horses and vagabonds. With the wind in her face and clear skies ahead, she could feel in her bones that she would see success today.

The imposing skyline of Chicago loomed ahead; buildings of all sizes squeezed together, fighting for space right up against the lakeshore. From her position, she heard rather than saw her forces split up, the thunderstorm diminishing to a melodic drizzle on a tin roof. More than anything, the chaos of a raid made her blood sing. She released another Whoop!

To be clear, she established a code early on, avoiding the unnecessary punishment and tyrannical rule of the authority figures she grew up with in Georgia. She offered her people freedom to do as they pleased away from the watchful eye and unforgiving fist of the government but guaranteeing those freedoms for the people they came across was mandatory. Never raise a hand against the innocents. Abusers, rapists, murderers, and politicians were free game.

Now as they rode, she watched as the sleepy city woke up to the terror of her horde of cowboys. Her charge specifically was tasked with confusion and chaos. Any remaining officers of the law in the city, and she was beginning to notice a few, would be too occupied with their incursion, and the wrongful assumption that this was the entirety of Kristine's gang, to take notice of the constricting band of the rest of her forces surrounding the city. Kristine herself was to head straight for the mayor's office. Best to establish a peaceful transition of power, to limit the bloodshed if she could.

Gunshots rang out, shattering the remaining peace of the morning and putting the city on high alert. The police were firing, and she knew they were firing first because she instructed her people to hold back unless provoked.

Now they were provoked.

Kristine whipped her own gun from her holster, the one returned by her sister after Mr. Thompson's failed assassination attempt. This time, the rounds were real. As she raced down the main thoroughfare, she fired at several incoming officers, never slowing her stride and rarely missing her mark. It was too easy. Almost.

With her forces scattered, she rounded a corner onto the road that would take her to city hall and came face to face with a considerable blockade of uniforms, horses, and crates in the road, blocking the easiest route to her goal. A moment later, she registered the guns trained on her, eight in total, with other officers wielding batons.