Flannigan Mcnash
Mr. Roboto
Before the cataclysm the cities were always moving; hover cars, people, buses, trains. All those people making the organic part of the cities, the part that determined the character and the structures. Those people dreamed of stadiums and theatres, they built pleasure houses and laid out parks. They built hospitals, libraries, police stations, courts and jails. It was not to be, a world left without help. Until...

"A beacon in the dark, a hope for the once hopeless populace of Drunkenwell. kalandra the city that stands, it was 'donated' by the Jackals requiring off world funding and compassion. Everyone who remained would slowly move on and into the loving embrace of the city that stands, and the ever present Mella foundries, turning the remaining debri and horrors of war into slabs of reusable and sell-able durasleet."
That's what the pamphlet said anyway, it wasn't a beacon of hope it was the lesser of two poisons. But it was better than starving in the wastes of Drunkenwell, if you ask anyone in Kalandra with sense about them it was owned by the pirates the Jackals, taking advantage of a ruined populace and building their empire of their tragedy becoming heroes in their eyes, but heroes with an agenda.
-Description-
An obtuse expanse of grey metal with rounded towers of durasteel tipped with cylindrical platforms, with houses and rough apartments between.