Growing up, my favorite fictional characters were the Red Shirts of Star Trek and the Stormtroopers of Star Wars. I was amused at how easily and readily they were slaughtered. They were armed and uniformed yet proved helpless victims.
My favorite Red Shirt death is when one was shot in the chest by the deadly spores of an alien flower. It was a classic "He's dead, Jim" moment. I continued to watch in gleeful anticipation as the rest of the sacrificial security detail was colorfully slain one-by-one.
My favorite Stormtrooper demise was in a comic book. The large, hairy hands of Chewbacca caught a guard unawares by the shoulder and the top of the helmeted head. Chewie snapped the masked face past its shoulder and left the body sprawled on the floor. I was thrilled by the sudden, dramatic simplicity. I mused with delight at the irony that the Stormtrooper's armor was totally useless against such an attack. I noted the delightful contrast that what was effortless for the killer was devastating for the victim. I imagined Chewbacca enjoyed the ease with which he destroyed this anonymous and insignificant enemy.
Everyone, male or female, finds comely women attractive. What if Red Shirts and Stormtroopers were comely women? Sexiness would be added to the mix of what I already loved. My favorite characters would be made manifest as armed and uniformed "scream queens." They would be Amazons as expendable personnel. I loved the idea. I still do and always shall.