The scavengers in Sol are not a pirate flag with a logo. They are outcasts, defectors, and exiles from the four empires past the Gate, each one still carrying the habits and the grudges of the place they left.
Their ships are patchwork. A Combine chassis, a living growth bolted on for a gun, a Confederacy boiler because the original drive was dead, a Dominion piece nobody wants to look at too long. Nothing matches. All of it is jury-rigged. It works.
They came here because Sol was supposed to be empty. Dead space. A quiet yard for stripping derelicts where no empire would bother them. Your waking up changed the arithmetic.