You could say the same about nearly any ongoing TV series, though. We always knew that Kirk or Picard or Sisko was never in any real danger of dying -- but then, we also knew that they don't really exist, that they're actors standing on sets and reading lines from scripts.
But we're no longer talking about the television shows, are we? Television shows which belong to an era that has long since passed, where there were never really any consequences from one week to the next. This is literature, where an actor isn't signed on for a seven year deal, plus movies.
But the point is, it's
all imaginary. The "consequences" in a work of literature aren't real, because the "people" they happen to don't exist except as words on a page. You just choose to pretend that there are stakes that matter. You
use your imagination to invest in the story, to set aside your knowledge that the stakes are unreal and allow yourself to believe in them. That's the same whether what you're ignoring is the guarantee of survival for the characters or the fact that the characters don't exist anyway.
You can do whatever you like, as an author, but you're playing the tired tropes instead.
I assure you that's not my intent. Granted, this particular installment in the series didn't feature the highest personal stakes for most of the main cast (Trip being an exception, I think), and that was a source of concern for me; but at the same time it seemed reasonable to follow up the first novel, which established the characters' new situations and relationships and showed their growing pains, with something where the characters' situation was a bit more stable, where the focus was more on the larger political and social process on the one hand and on the smaller personal stuff on the other. It would get boring if every story were just "Oh, we're all gonna die" over and over again. This is the first time I've had the luxury of writing a full series, aside from my Hub stories in
Analog, and that means I can play a long game and modulate my approach from book to book.
And this is what you've done repeatedly: offer up someone as the sacrificial lamb on the Spectrum of Red(shirt), in order to affect change in the main cast. TROPE!
I honestly have no idea what you're referring to here. Who have I "offered up?" What sacrifices are you talking about?
And let's clarify something: The person who's ranking characters by how killable they are is you, not me. I don't plot my stories based on such a simplistic and narrow-minded formula. Death is not the only story device that has worth or power. It's just one tool in the kit. There are plenty of ways characters can grow or change or fail or suffer in meaningful ways without dying. In fact, I think death is often a lazy ending for a character arc -- it doesn't really resolve anything, it just stops things. I mean, a character's death can't have a future impact on
that character's development, because they don't have any more beyond it (unless they get resurrected, but that's a whole other conversation). It's only meaningful to the extent that it affects other characters' arcs.
So frankly I don't give a damn who's killable and who isn't, because I'm not only concerned with action and danger. As a rule it's more interesting to keep characters alive because then you can keep getting them in trouble and seeing how it affects and changes them. Sisko having to live with the choices he made in "In the Pale Moonlight" is a much more interesting story than if, say, he blew himself up to prevent them from happening. Basically, a writer's job is to torture one's characters, and you can't torture a corpse.
And for the record,
everything is a trope. So calling something a trope doesn't exactly constitute a condemnation. It's impossible to tell a story without tropes. A trope is simply a motif, device, or technique for telling a story. What you're advocating for here -- placing lead characters in genuine danger --
is also a trope. And freely killing off lead characters can be just as cliched or formulaic as rendering them immune to death. No trope is automatically good or bad; they're tools, and the quality of a tool is in how it's wielded.