During the Old Republic era miners were left to their own devices, at least for the most part. It suited them. Dinner jackets, smart chit chat and high roller events were not for them. It was the ruggedness of all things mining and the lure of literally digging up riches from the ground that kept them focused. This was no different for those who eventually fled from the Empire.
With the Empire’s ever-increasing demands for taxes, mindless loyalty and unpaid labour, many had feared for their lives. Many had rather leave their pits and their shafts to the winds and the dust than collaborating with a deadly evil. The Empire cared little where no resistance was to be crushed or freedom to be imprisoned. From those people, the ones driven from their land, driven from their livelihoods, driven from their way of life, the Lyatr Gahata had formed.
In the beginning a small group of miners headed for the Locris sector, an Inner Rim hot-bed of rampant underworld activity at the time. The purpose was to find refuge on an unknown planet that had been kept a secret and was therefore not listed on galactic maps. They had paid a smuggler handsomely for this secret. She gave them a small area of coordinates where the planet was supposed to be located. As they had learned later, some form of space-deployed, malfunctioning interdiction device had pulled them from hyper-flight. The sudden stop caused severe, multi-system damages to their heavy freighter, which was apparently not suited to sudden stops. Spinning, yet with some control, they managed to crash land on Lantillies I, a Mid Rim planet in the Lantillian sector. A planet where the locals passively defied the Empire by not looking after their starports beyond navigational and the most basic repair services.
Marooned, yet with a steely resolve, they began to work in one of a decrepit starport, in the hope of getting their fat, steel box space-borne once again. Only on rare occasions they enacted involuntary ownership transfers for essential parts, especially where the locals were too stubborn to see the need to repair their ship as paramount or the price of a part was set to a randomly fantastic figure. They had help in the endeavour of part procurement though, after stumbling on a business group that had been ambushed at a previously confirmed safe location. While selflessly nursing those badly wounded travellers in their midst for a good while, friendships formed. Those travellers turned out to be learned in practical uses of the Force. To return the favour and unashamedly admitting to wanting to earn a ride, those travellers provided guidance and were willing to hire out their skill in the art of persuading the weak minded.
After a short number of years, their ship took them off that rock. Beside a declaration of freedom, their manifest states: “All sentient beings imbued with midi-chlorians shall be welcome and taught to use the force”. While this has nothing to do with their craft of prospecting, drilling shafts and hauling raw materials, it has everything to do with their society and culture. Valour and determination weave through their social fabric.
Since then, thousands have joined the ranks of the Lyatr Gahata and formed a society of peaceful miners and collectors of certain droids and pre-loved technology beneficial to their exploits.
Their backyard is the galaxy and they are not tied to any one place or ruler.