Building the Alliance Pilot – Part 3: Hard Kit

The pilot build is coming right along, and now we’re in the final stretch: with clothing (aka ‘soft kit’) items out of the way, this time we’re adding on the various accessories that really help sell the snubfighter pilot look! First up is (per the Rogue One visual guide) a “Novaldex Diagnostech life support unit”, aka chestbox!

When I started this pilot project, I was still working commission-to-commission, and for a starving artist, shelling out $100+ for a vacformed or 3D printed chestbox was something I wasn’t comfortable doing. Now that I have a more regular source of income, I can see that it’s not that much to pay, but I still wanted to do my part and keep the DIY-craftsman ethic alive. Never one to turn down a good problem-solving challenge, I decided to scratchbuild my own. I knew this element would be the most involved, so I started work on it last August. From a measured diagram I produced a foldable pattern, which I turned into a ‘Mark 1’ pepakura using shoebox cardboard in about a week:

Despite the resin/rondo coatings, it was still too flexible and the sides wouldn’t stay quite square; it simply wasn’t worth the effort it was going to take to make it work, so I decided to cut my losses and start over, thus avoiding the ‘sunk cost fallacy’ (i.e. believing something is worthwhile just because you’ve invested a lot of time or money into it). I was still a little dispirited all the same, so I had to bide my time until the right material appeared. Come early December, I found some small sheets of Masonite for another couple bucks at my local secondhand craft shop and laid out my Pep pattern on these. This time, the material was rigid enough to not flex or require much post-processing.

let’s add some details, pilot-style!

Building the Alliance pilot – Part 2: Soft Kit

In our last post, I laid out my plan to push the boundaries of Original Trilogy pilot style in a simple, believable way: take the iconic ANH look and swap the orange flightsuit for a tan one. It may be a minor change, but it’s also an effective one – let’s get started and break it down layer by layer!

The flightsuit in question is my old tan standby from Wampawear – originally purchased for a hypothetical New Republic Archeological Corps shovel bum impression. That may have fizzled out, but the elements I initially gathered for it are as solid as ever. All the weathering you see is 100% honest and natural: every time over the last 4 or 5 years when I’ve had to work on my car (oil changes, brakes, pushing out dents, lug stud swaps, etc.) I’ve worn this flightsuit, and in the process have built up a really impressive pattern of real wear in authentic places. In person it’s absolutely filthy looking, but on camera it just reads as extra well-used. I hesitate to wash it because I’m so pleased with the patina but I’m also aware that doing so would probably be good for the garment. If I do, it will likely just be handwashed with little (if any) detergent.
(Boots are Finnish military jackboots I snagged from Varusteleka years ago.)

From the beginning, the ejection harness was one component I really wanted to do in as authentic or realistic a manner as possible. While it’s an obvious stylistic homage to the parachute harnesses of WW2, it doesn’t quite make much sense—there’s just not that much to it, comparably. Apparently, Rebel Legion folks just safety pin or Velcro the naked top end of their harness webbing to the flak vest or flight suit, which I find completely un-immersive! I wanted this to really feel like a piece of in-universe military gear – one I wouldn’t be afraid to be seen suiting up in – so I came up with a simple over-the-shoulder design that would still remain unseen under the shoulders of the flak vest.

Continue getting dressed, pilot-style!