Holoship "Enlightenment" Badge Recreation

At last comes the next chapter in this exclusive, and some might say, increasingly exciting series of badge recreation fan articles.

In what could be considered a natural evolution in design, the triple/sextuple-pointed Enlightenment tunic badge from Series V is strikingly reminiscent of Rimmer's quintuple-pointed tunic badge seen throughout the programme's run.

This piece can be seen in just one episode, Holoship, with subtle variations featuring on no less than eight different characters including the captain and seven other officers, at least six of them ranked Commander – two being supporting artistes without any lines or discernible insignia. Each badge is seated on the upper-screen right portion of their quilted Lamé tunics, practically at the shoulder.

The in-universe timeline and continuity for Red Dwarf can be nebulous at best, but it can be safely assumed that the super-light starship at the heart of this episode launched some time after our old irradiated vermilion fumigator lurched out of the solar system – perhaps even centuries on.

When the ship's captain is introduced to Rimmer, he is somehow able to deduce that Arnold is "one of the old Class I holograms", apparently with little more than a passing glance. I wonder if a hologram's tunic badge, its accoutrements, or perhaps even the wearer's forehead 'H', is indicative of its place in the dev lifecycle? Despite being later models, it doesn't necessarily hold true that the Enlightenment's crew is hard-light, as we know that soft-light holos can interact with each other and similarly projected objects (see Parallel Universe, Quarantine).

The crew of the Enlightenment were said to be the hologrammatic cream of the Space Corps, and their elegant uniforms reflect this. At face value, in the context of the narrative, with everything on-board the tachyonic vessel being computer generated, these uniform badges would theoretically look as close to flawless as possible.

This visual ideology carries with it a design philosophy all of its own – as I recall, exemplified in the wise words of an eminent animator whose name escapes me (possibly, Brad Bird) who once remarked how the world is big and rough, but computers prefer to render objects small and smooth. Thusly, it would likely be a waste of resources for stochastic AI, Stocky, to simulate a less-than-pristine object. This notion is borne out in the Art Deco design and slick set dressing of the Holoship itself. Even the envelope that Rimmer leaves for Nirvana at the episode's stirring dénouement is handed over shiny, creaseless, and virtually perfect. Just as a simulation would be.

During the Series V documentary, Heavy Science, Robert Llewellyn is heard to recount...

"I was never in any of the scenes on the Holoship, so, I do remember staring in admiration from a distance, going, 'Wish I could be in that...' 'cause only Chris was allowed. We weren't even allowed to walk on the floor, 'cause the floor was all shiny-white. There was a big sign: 'Keep The Filthy Cast Off This Set!'".

Given the notably stepped structure of the badge, I decided against using metal this time around, instead sticking to acrylic from start to finish. The original jewellery looks to have been cast by Mike Tucker, presumably in resin.

I imagine, most easygoing folk these days would simply remodel the shape digitally using a plethora of polygons to later extrude, micron by micron, in dozens of layers of melted PLA. Although I am a great admirer of what is achievable through home 3D printing, whichever polymer is used usually requires finishing work (sanding, priming, painting, and the like). By pre-selecting the metallic gold acrylic beforehand, this made for both a cleaner process and, to my eye, finish.

I can't quite explain why this is the case, but for some creative reason, the prospect of making something 3D using two-dimensional software greatly appeals to me. In terms of the end result, it may not be the traditional workflow trail-blazed by the capable and credited, but this is essentially what I can do, and thus far I've been reasonably pleased with the results. As a great man once said, "I may not be fast, but I get there in the end".

By comparison, to my surprise only slightly smaller overall, the previous badges were relatively straightforward in terms of physical assembly. This is mostly due to the added hardware that passed through the varied strata that comprised each piece. In this case, there were no bolts to help sandwich the separate layers together, so instead I added engraved grooves to the file by which the next layer could be neatly clacked and glued into place. It might not be 100% screen-accurate ultra-canon, but I took the time to include a tiny tab on the upper-side of the name tag so that it could be precisely and equidistantly seated between the etched fluting.

This badge was designed in four separate pieces: the baseplate, the mid-plate, the disc, and the name plate. Arguably, of all the pieces, the name plate required the most creative thinking...

The screen-used badges look to have been adorned with Letraset, or similar, for the text. Having naturally crumbled over the years, consequently, I couldn't quite decide whether each name-tag unconventionally began with a full stop. Ultimately, on reviewing some of the other characters' badges, such as Matthew Marsh's deliciously named Capt. Hercule Platini, I decided to only include a stop after "CMDR" and "RIMMER".

As I tend to find them tricky to work with, rather than commission some decals, I had the text engraved directly into the acrylic. This allowed for a small splodge of black acrylic paint to fill in the gaps, and any excess to be cleanly wiped off. The same process was repeated for the parallel lines that intersect the base and mid-plates.

After applying another of those rather spiffing magnetic backing strips blanketed by a swatch of adhesive felt, keeping one keen eye on total screen-accuracy, regrettably, the only thing left to do was destroy one of the ultra-rare AH Prismatic hologram badges (kindly sent to me by Barclay for my last article) from the very same line used on-screen over three decades ago...

... Which, of course, I simply couldn't bring myself to do. Even the prospect of peeling off the hologram from its badge felt like sacrilege – so much so that during the design stage, I experimented with incorporating the entire badge itself into the acrylic somehow, but just couldn't fathom the best way forward without radically changing the dimensions. Perhaps that's where 3D modelling would have proven its considerable worth.

Defeated, I simply took a photograph of that badge's lenticular focal piece and had some placeholder stickers made on the off-chance I may someday find some Rowlux to replace them with.

And there you have it. FIVE Rimmer badges (but no strange man with large teeth). Compared to my previous biannual-spanning efforts, this prop took less than two weeks to put together, all in. By my reckoning, if and when I find myself running at full pelt again, I confidently predict I shall recreate a full acrylic fruit salad by the end of the year.

I cannot believe I just said that.