Here it is, the promised prologue. It's a bunch of short snippets revealing the how and why of each kombatant's entry into the tournament. A lot of scenes are based on the MK1 comics (non-canon). Some of them are not. Jaylen's section certainly wasn't. Please enjoy


Prologue

Kano

The overlord of the Black Dragon leaned back into his leather upholstered seat. Though he had slept on the plane from New York to San Francisco, he was still tired from his flight, and he certainly did not want to be tired for the upcoming confrontation.

Perhaps he should start from the beginning.

Three days ago he had received an invitation to a legendary martial arts competition by the name of Mortal Kombat. The invite was printed on a fancy piece of red paper with gold ink and everything; it was quite impressive. More impressive was the fact that it had magically appeared on the doorstep of the Black Dragon's secret hideout in France, the location of which no one outside of the gang was supposed to know. The paper had instructed Kano to appear at harbor seven to board the ship there at noon today. Normally the gangster would've been wary and skeptical of such a thing, but he had investigated the tournament and found out that it was not only a legitimate competition but it also had a huge prize pool, with a top cash prize boasting a ten figure number. Better yet, the entire thing was a freestyle tournament, meaning weapons were allowed. Now, the Black Dragon had gotten much bigger in the fifteen years that Kano had led them, but that prize money was enough to double their reserves. Ever the opportunist, Kano decided to join the competition, and even used this chance to check up on some munitions that had just arrived for distribution.

Of course, that's not all he'd be doing.

He'd received word from Jarek yesterday. The Special Forces had gotten wind of 'the leak' and were planning to ambush them. His ever faithful mole had also revealed all the details of the operation, and Kabal was now leading a unit of gunmen to ambush the ambushers. He'd have laughed if he hadn't planned this all along.

Now about the shipment he was inspecting. A huge shipping crate of military grade rifles and artillery had arrived and Kano was to make sure the quality was up to standard and that the damn Russians had sent over as many as the Black Dragon had ordered. The gang had dealt with plenty of suppliers who had tried to cheat them by shipping over fewer weapons than they had requisitioned.

The car stopped. He had arrived. Getting out of his car, he looked at the roof of the warehouse he was about to enter and saw the silhouetted figure of Kabal, standing by for the order to take out the Special Forces detachment that lay in wait for him. With a slight tilt of his head, Kano gave the signal to his subordinate to begin the operation.

Stepping through the huge double doors that allowed entry to cargo trucks into the warehouse, Kano noticed the shipping container with the open top lying in the middle of the room. Three Russians were standing around it, awaiting his arrival. Though they tried to remain hidden, Kano's mechanical eye spotted the gunmen hidden in the shadows of the warehouse in case he failed to uphold his end of the deal. While they appeared to be unarmed, they were surely concealing weapons in the inner pockets of their suits, just like the knives Kano was hiding in his.

"Mister Kano?" asked the man in the center with a thick Russian brogue.

"Yes, that's me," he answered.

"We have the shipment of arms that you ordered here. I hope you have the money."

"Right here," the Black Dragon thug casually as he lifted the briefcase he had been carrying. "You understand if I want to inspect the goods before I hand over the cash, right?"

"Of course Mister Kano, we have the exact amount you requested, all of the best quality."

Kano climbed up the portable staircase that was propped against the side of the container and peered in. Though the light was not sufficient for the naked eye to see everything, his bionic eye easily scanned through the contents and verified the quality and quantity.

"Excellent work Mister Yaroslovski," praised Kano. "These weapons perfectly fulfill our expectations."

The gangster descended the stairs and handed over the suitcase. "I look forward to doing business with you again. I have some men just outside who will take these weapons away."

The Russian arms dealer opened the case and briefly counted the money before giving a satisfactory nod and leaving the warehouse. His thugs and hidden gunmen left with him.

"Now then Kabal," called out the thug once the dealers left earshot. "Why don't you bring our friends over so we can get acquainted?"

The door leading to the back of the warehouse opened and a man with long black braids wearing a dark split vest filed in with a string of four prisoners behind him. Numerous thugs held carbines pointed at the backs of the captives.

"Excellent work boys," congratulated Kano. "Bring 'em back to the- wait. Where's the woman?"

Kabal turned around and counted the prisoners before his eyes turned wide.

"Where's the final prisoner?" demanded Kabal. "Where are Joe and Ryan and the rest of the boys assigned to take care of her?"

The Black Dragon grunts looked at each other, none of them daring to say anything. One of the Special Forces members, however, did.

"Ha!" spat the big, burly man with brown curls. "Lieutenant Blade's too tough for the likes of you to capture. And she's coming to set us all free!"

"Silence!" yelled Kabal as he backhanded the man across the face.

"That's all right," said Kano, who had been thinking hard. "Load the prisoners onto the boat I'll be taking at harbor seven. If we take them back to the hideout, we'll be leading the Special Forces right to where they want to go."

"Right away," responded his right hand man as he turned the prisoners around.

"Go on ahead Kabal," instructed the crimelord. "I got a little bit of business to finish up over here," he added under his breath.

Kano watched Kabal and the procession of captives file out of the warehouse. His back was to his target and he knew she was there. After, the crazy bitch would pursue him unrelentingly until one of them was dead. An evil grin split his face as he heard the blonde lieutenant drop down behind him. The fun was about to begin.

Liu Kang

Liu knelt before the panel of Shaolin elders before him. They were in the inner sanctuary of the Shaolin temple where only the elders and those permitted by them may enter. The room was decorated fairly decadently, with red carpeting and various paintings hanging on the walls.

"Liu Kang, do you know why we summoned you?" asked one of the elders.

"Yes, Master Huang," answered Liu without lifting his eyes.

"Then you know that Shang Tsung's foul tournament is about to begin once again."

"Master Wu has trained you well, may you go with the strength and swiftness of the gods."

"I wish Kung Lao was able to go with you," said Master Wu solemnly.

Kung Lao? It was because of his inability to keep up that we had to delay my training schedule. In fact, if he had not left five years ago, we might still be covering basics! It is a miracle that I'm as proficient as I am in what you've taught me.

Liu Kang, of course, said this in his mind, not out loud.

"Nevertheless, we cannot change the past," continued Liu Kang's master. "Go forth, Liu, with our blessings. May the gods watch over you and lend you their strength to bring down Shang Tsung and restore honor to the ancient Tournament which he has defiled."

"Thank you master," responded Liu. "I will not fail."

With those words, the bearer of the Dragon's chi rose and left the room. Liu had indeed known that Shang Tsung's tournament was about to begin. An invite of red and gold had appeared beside his bed this morning with details on how to join the fight. The ship that he had to board was in Hong Kong, and he had three days to get there. Thankfully, a train ticket had also been included with the invitation.

Liu Kang clenched his fist around the slip of red paper and ignited it with a burst of pure fire from his hands.

Beware, Shang Tsung. Righteous retribution is coming.

Raiden

Someone was summoning him.

Few mortals of the Earthrealm remember the sacred incantations to summon a god, let alone have the power to invoke it.

Surely there was only one person who would have the audacity to request an audience with the protector of Earthrealm himself.

Raiden smiled.

He had been waiting for him.

"Raiden! God of thunder, hear these words!" called out the sorcerer amidst the storm he was walking through. "I ask of you once more, accept this invitation and compete in my great tournament! Or do you fear the dangers of Mortal Kombat?"

He was right; the sorcerer Shang Tsung was the one who had summoned him.

The god of thunder materialized in the world which he was tasked to protect in a flash of white plasma and an earsplitting peal of thunder.

"I fear no mortal!" responded the god. "And your tournament is no more great than the body your decrepit spirit possesses! I have long watched your evil practices Shang Tsung. You are nothing more than a cowardly sorcerer!

"I accept your invitation and give you this warning: All who would oppose Raiden will be crushed!"

"Your acceptance is welcomed great Raiden," answered Shang Tsung with false humility. "Oh, and please remember this tournament takes place in my domain, under my rules."

"Play your mind games all you want, sorcerer. The might of the storm will crush you and the beast you hide behind."

"I humbly await your presence two days from now. A boat will take you to my domain at the harbor in Hong Kong. I will take my leave."

With another flash of white lightning Raiden returned to the domain of the gods.

He would be lying if he said he was not excited.

Indeed, he was looking forward to destroying the sorcerer and using the tournament to face other gods in Kombat.

It had been too long since he has had anything to do but to look upon the world which he was to protect and be unable to do anything as the mortals that inhabited it indulged in their evil.

Bolts of electricity shot out from his being as he anticipated and hastened the day of Kombat to arrive.

Johnny Cage

Johnny slumped into the seat in which he sat. He had recently gotten into the habit of frequenting small, less popular bars in the past month.

He didn't know who had spread the rumors that he hired stuntmen to take all the falls, but it sure did ruin his reputation. No one would hire him now, not even more a simple commercial. Even if he had stunt doubles (which he didn't), it seemed people were far too willing to forget that he was a good actor as well, producing blockbusters like 'Massive Strike', 'Citizen Cage' and 'Ninja Mime'.

The actor tilted his head back and took a big swig out of the mug of beer he was drinking. He knew he should've been trying to do something productive and get a job, but he was completely demotivated. A small part of him wondered if he was depressed, but he pushed that thought away. He really didn't care anymore - at least he didn't want to care anymore. That is why he had started drinking as much as he did. When he drank, he didn't have to think, didn't have to care, and didn't have to worry.

Now in an alcohol fuelled stupor, Cage laid his head on the counter before him and looked at the posters on the walls. One of them in particular caught his gaze.

Mortal Kombat huh? thought the movie star. That sounds pretty cool.

Few people know it, but it was Johnny who had come up with the concept behind Ninja Mime. In fact, one of the main factors that drove him into acting was his love of playwriting. When he was younger, he would often come up with scripts on his own and act them out.

Participate in the legendary martial arts tournament with a thousand year old history! This freestyle fighting competition is available by invite only, so call the following number. The cash prize for winning the tournament is...

"$1,000,000,000!?" yelled Cage, drawing the attention of all the patrons in the bar. If Cage noticed, he sure didn't let on. Walking over to the poster, he ripped off the poster and made his way out. He pulled out his cellphone and began dialing the number on the poster.

Any tournament with a prize this big has to be pretty famous. If I win this tournament, people will see that I ain't no phony. The money and the rep will get me back on my feet for sure! Not to mention this sounds like a good idea for a movie, I can probably make a script out of this!

Fame and fortune, get ready, 'cause Johnny is coming back!

Scorpion

Arise Scorpion, spoke a voice.

Obligingly, the hellspawn opened his eyes and sat upright. It was a motion he had not performed in a very long time. In fact, he had not made any physical motions in two years. He felt solid again, confined within the flesh of a body. His heart beat, his blood flowed and his lungs breathed. Scorpion looked up to see one of the demon-gods of the Netherrealm, one known as Quan Chi. His skin was completely white save for a few black accents over his eyes. He wore a black split vest over a loose blue jumpsuit and a spiked chestpiece around the vest. A brown leather belt wrapped around his waist and black shinguards wrapped around his lower leg.

The time for vengeance draws near, continued Quan Chi. Shang Tsung's vile Tournament begins soon and the one you seek revenge on will attend the competition to assassinate the sorcerer. Go forth and challenge the assassin to Mortal Kombat, and enact vengeance as you see fit on the clan of murderers who killed your clan.

Indeed, two years ago, the assassin known as Sub-zero had fought and defeated him in one on one combat. Scorpion would have rested in peace if the ice ninja's crimes were only limited to that. However, the bloodthirsty Lin Kuei had then ordered the destruction of Scorpion's entire clan and family. His wife and two year old son had both been mercilessly slaughtered. Thus, even in the bowels of hell, the former Shirai Ryu assassin could not rest. He had appealed to the demon-gods of the Netherrealm for a chance to return to the realm of the living to exact vengeance on his killer and on the clan he hailed from. For two years Scorpion underwent torturous training to gain mystical powers beyond his imagination. Now, the day of reckoning draws near.

You will need this, said Quan Chi as he handed Scorpion a mask. Your current visage is...different from the one you had while you were alive. In order to avoid unnecessary attention, you will need to cover your face with this. Take it off only to finish your opponents.

Scorpion touched his face and realized what the demon-god was talking about. Instead of soft tissue, the wraith's hand was met with hard, bare bone. His face had been replaced by a skull. The undead ninja accepted the mask and put it on.

Go forth, Scorpion, and bring swift death to your enemies.

The hellspawn disappeared in a blaze of hellfire. He reappeared in the world of the living before a docked boat. This would be the vessel that would take him to Kombat against his foe!

Vegeance will be mine! thought Scorpion as he headed aboard the ship.

Sub-zero

Sub-zero walked through a set of elaborate double doors to enter the chamber of the Grandmaster. It was a long room made of grey stone blocks. A narrow passage flanked by slitted pillars lead into the heart of the chamber. At the far wall was an elevated platform that held the throne on which the Grandmaster sat. Two short flights of stairs led up to it on either side and two pillars flanked the steps. A yin-yang symbol decorated the floor before the seat and the dragon symbol of the Lin Kuei was carved imposingly behind the throne. The Grandmaster sat on the elevated throne clad in a loose-fitting black robe with his red ceremonial vest draped over top. The black hood that covered his head peaked up into a makeshift headdress and a red facemask covered his nose and mouth, revealing only his eyes.

"I vow to serve and obey the Lin Kuei," said Sub-zero with a bow. Kneeling down he made a fist with his right hand and put it into the open palm of his left.

"Welcome back, my warrior," congratulated the Grandmaster with a flourish of both hands. Sub-zero rose at this gesture. "I have another undertaking for you. It seems your exploits have caught the eye of another sorcerer. I would like you to meet the retainer of your services."

A decrepit old man strode up beside the ice ninja.

Where had he come from? I completely failed to detect his presence!

Long white hair cascaded down from the side of his otherwise bald head. Similarly, a mustache and beard adorned his wrinkled face. He wore a grand robe of blue silk with white trimmings. The most striking feature of this man, however, was his eyes. They were completely blank, as if he were devoid of a soul. Thunder crashed in the distance as the ninja and the sorcerer's gaze met.

"His name in Shang Tsung, and he would like you to compete in a small tournament. It's called...Mortal Kombat."

Another peal of thunder resounded far away.

The sorcerer gave a small nod and took his leave without uttering a word. As soon as the doors that lead into the room closed with a resounding boom, the Grandmaster gave the final details of Sub-zero's new mission.

"While the sorcerer would have you fight in his competition, your real mission is to assassinate him. An anonymous organization bearing the symbol of a flaming sword has contracted our services to eliminate Shang Tsung. They will require that you bring back a body part to confirm that he is indeed dead. That is all, you are dismissed."

Sonya

Sonya dashed after Kano. That sneaky bastard couldn't beat her in a fair fight so he had stuck a knife into her gut while she was grappling with him and left her to die, but he had not counted on a secret prototype medicine to rapidly repair her wounds. She had overheard everything he said to Kabal. Right now, her men were being loaded onto some ship and taken away to God-knows-where. If she remembered correctly, the boat was docked at harbor seven. If she was fast, then maybe she'd be able to get aboard before it cast off.

After a few minutes of running, her destination came into sight. The boat was already leaving shore! It seemed that Kano had just barely made it, he clung to the side of the boat and was being helped up by a couple of nearby people. The Special Forces lieutenant sprinted down the wharf in a desperate attempt to somehow get on, but the ship was too far out and it had picked up too much speed. There was no way she'd get aboard without another boat. Looking around, she saw several motorboats docked nearby. She knew what she had to do, and she felt terrible about it, but it was for the sake of her unit members.

Sonya hopped into one of the boats and removed the panel that housed all the circuits. Using a precise laser from her bracelets, the blonde fighter severed and welded a few wires, bringing the boat to life. Before she went off in pursuit of Kano, she grabbed a coil of rope. With that, she zipped off on her hijacked boat after the wooden ship that was starting to fade into the distance.

Thankfully, the powerful engine and small size of the motorboat allowed her to catch up pretty quickly. As soon as she caught up to the wooden ship, she slowed down her engine enough so that both vessels were moving at the same speed. Taking out the coil of rope she had taken, she attached a pair of handcuffs to one end to form a makeshift grapple. Sonya then flung the grapple up, hoping it would work. It took a few tries, but she finally managed to climb aboard the ship. The motorboat would now belong to whoever found it washed up on the shores.

Sonya's feet touched down on the wooden planks of the deck. She removed the grapple and coiled it up, stashing it onto her belt. A big sheet of cloth covered some barrels nearby, and she quickly climbed under the heavy cloth. Once the boat stopped moving, she would track down Kano and free her squad. The space under the cloth was small and Sonya dared not move too much lest someone noticed, so she would have to hold one, maybe two positions during the entire voyage, however long that would take. She would just have to wait...


Barely an hour passed before her cover was blown. A guard wearing a mask shaped like a fox's head had to get something from one of the barrels and found her. Her limbs were still asleep from crouching for an hour, so she could not respond fast enough to prevent him from raising the alarm. More identical guards poured out of the woodworks and attacked her. She back herself into a corner and fought with mad desperation, managing to hold out for a good hour. However, the commotion above drew the attention of the Kombatants below. Among the throng of people who came up to see what was happening was a certain Australian gangster. Sonya knew she couldn't fight off the guards forever, so she decided to take someone down with her.

"Kano!" she snarled as she rammed through the line of guards that had trapped her.

"Bitch!" responded the thug as he drew one of his beloved butterfly knives. The crowd of people surrounding the gangster immediately scattered, allowing the two to fight undisturbed as the ring of flesh surrounding them blocked out the guards.

Sonya approached with a roundhouse kick aimed at Kano's head, but he ducked under it and lunged towards the lieutenant, seeking to gut her again. The Special Forces soldier slapped him in the wrist, deflecting the knife. Then, she punched him in the diaphragm, causing the gangster to bend over. Sonya grabbed the back of Kano's head and accelerated it into her raised knee. The impact devastated his face and broke his nose. Kano reeled back with a growl and jumped into the air, thrusting one of his flexed heels at her face. Sonya blocked the kick but could not avoid the Black Dragon thug's low kick that knocked out one of her ankles. Unbalanced, she toppled forward straight into an uppercut to her chin which knocked her airborne. It was a good thing she tucked in her chin so that her head didn't land on the hard wooden floor, or else she would've been knocked unconscious.

Slowly rising to her feet, Sonya blinked her eyes a couple of times before engaging her foe once again. This time, she threw a few punches at Kano's face, all of which were blocked. Her final blow was completely intercepted and the gangster got a grip on her right forearm. Kano pulled her in as he delivered a powerful haymaker to her face, but she managed to catch that with her left arm. The two fighters entered into a brief struggle of strength, but Sonya knew she could not overpower the thug so easily. Instead, she rolled backwards, taking advantage of his unsupported weight to fling him over her. Kano was not so fortunate with his landing, and the wooden deck nearly knocked him out as his head collided with it.

Before he had the chance to recuperate, Sonya dashed over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing him into a chokehold. If the guards were going to kick her off the ship for stowing away, then her only hope of rescuing her unit would be dashed. And she'd be damned if she went home empty-handed.

Just as Kano's face started to turn blue, the guards busted their way through the ring and surrounded her. Sonya knew she couldn't keep choking Kano and fight, but she wasn't about to let go. So it was a simple matter for one of the guards to sneak up on her and knock her out with a wooden bludgeon.


Sonya awoke in a dark room with only one window high above her letting some light in. The slight swaying of the wooden floor beneath her feet let her know that she was still on the ship. The bars that prevented her exit from the room made it clear, however, that she was a prisoner. She would not be able to save herself, let alone any of her squad members. Sonya dipped her head in defeat.

"Hope is not yet lost," came a sinister voice from the shadows beyond the bars. An old man with long white hair and a blue robe came into view. "You wish to save your captured unit, do you not?" How did he know? Had Kano told him? "I have a way for you to do so. It's quite simple. All these fighters aboard this ship is fighting to qualify for an ancient martial arts tournament. You will join this competition and fight. If you can manage to beat everyone and come out on top, I will release your subordinates."

"What did you say?" snapped Sonya. "You will release them?"

"I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Shang Tsung, the host of this tournament. I will be taking custody of your soldiers in lieu of Mr. Kano during the duration of the competition. If you can beat your fellow competitors and me, I will allow your squad members to walk away, free."

Sonya thought for a moment. She was not eager to get into a fighting contest with a bunch of (probably) muscle headed, egotistical men but, given her position and her desperation to rescue her unit, she was not really in a position to disagree.

"Very well, I will fight in your tournament. I will last until the end and free my men!"

"Excellent Ms. Blade, just what I hoped you'd say. Welcome to the tournament; welcome to Mortal Kombat."

Jaylen

People never took him seriously.

They laughed when he started screaming, ridiculed him when he began transforming.

Stupid, they called him. A fool. Crazy. They would get bored of watching him yell his voice hoarse and then knock him out and then make fun of him. But he had a secret none of them could even begin to fathom, for he knew the secret to unlimited power. He knew how to draw on strength that lay beyond the reach of any mortal man. He knew the secret technique of using the power of the mind!
He was Jaylen, and he was the legendary Super Saiyan! So sure, he hadn't done a successful transformation yet, but he knew that he had the heart and mind of a true Super Saiyan. Also, his base fighting abilities weren't so strong (ascending to a Super Saiyan would only build on one's base abilities), but he could overcome that with knew that he just needed more experience. After all, even Goku and Vegeta took decades before realizing their true power. He would have to fight more and let his Zenkai do the work. To that end he joined tournament after tournament, fight after fight. He could feel himself slowly becoming stronger and stronger every he was not improving fast he had begun his quest to become a Super Saiyan three years ago, nothing had changed drastically except his , he found the day, he was coming home from the gym and he saw a poster on the telephone pole outside his apartment. It was an advertisement for an upcoming martial arts tournament. It was happening in the next week and it was by invitation only, drawing in the best fighters from around the planet for a week long battle royale. If he could get into this tournament, he'd be fighting so much in such a short period of time that his Zenkai would surely allow him to become the strongest in the universe!As if the Kais had heard his prayers, he received an invitation in the mail the next day. It was an elaborate invite, printed in gold ink on red paper and it had specific instructions on how to join the tournament. Jaylen spent the whole day working out at the gym and preparing himself for the fighting event of his life. He packed his bags that night for a week long out mortals; the Super Saiyan of legend was coming to face all of you in Mortal Kombat!


With the prologue complete and only a few bonus chapters to (maybe) post, I will officially put the "complete" tag on this story. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Anyone following this story can unfollow because any updates will be few and far between.

Final thoughts: I initially begun writing this story as a joke. Sure, I loved the franchise and the characters and the idea of Mortal Kombat, but I had no respect for fanfiction and did not take it seriously in the least. Slowly over time, I begun to realize that there was so much more to fanfiction than what I had perceived it to be (which was a bunch of shipping fics). I wanted my characters to be deeper and my story to have a direction. But my previous, light mentality and my more serious attitude seriously conflict and I ended up being unable to truly produce the fanfiction that I wanted to produce. I still regret that I did not take the opportunities in the early chapters to delve into the minds of the characters from whose perspective I wrote. I regret neglecting Kano and Sub-zero as characters. I regret not being more creative with my OC (he's really just a joke character like Mokap from Deception). I do, however, plan to address those issues in future stories. I want to bring the ideas in my head to pape...er, electronic. A big thank you goes out to everyone who has taken the time to review this story. I appreciate all of your feedback and I take all of your words to heart. Don't stop being awesome!

Thank you for choosing to read 'Mortal Kombat: Tournament Edition'. I had a blast writing this story over the past few years. Let's meet again in the next Author's Notes!

I really should have a specific name for when I want to address my readers like this. Perhaps 'THE CREATOR SPEAKS'.