For months, Cyberlux Corporation clung to one excuse like it was the last raft on the Titanic: We can’t release the contract. It’s confidential. National security. Non-disclosures. Secrecy, you understand.
And for a while, people might have believed them. Until now. Because Cyberlux voluntarily dumped its entire subcontract with HII Mission Technologies into the public record — and in doing so, they torpedoed their own story more thoroughly than any courtroom drama could.
The very document they insisted the world could never see shows that Cyberlux’s entire narrative about ownership, government control, and hands-off drones was, at best, selectively edited. At worst, completely undone.
The facts, laid bare by their own hand, are these: the drones still belong to Cyberlux.
Not maybe. Not sort of. Legally, definitively, embarrassingly — they appear to be, and likely are, Cyberlux’s property.
Reading the subcontract feels like watching someone argue they won a race while dragging a flat tire three laps behind everyone else. The terms are brutally clear: ownership of the drones only transfers to the government after successful delivery to Dover Air Force Base and formal acceptance paperwork, like a signed DD250 form.
But they didn’t — or worse, they did, and hoped no one else would.
Here’s the reality: 392 drones were delivered before the government issued a Stop-Work Order in December 2023. But of the 1,608 drones still held by Cyberlux, only 37 had completed Flight Acceptance Testing and were awaiting formal acceptance when the hammer came down. The rest — a glorious pile of partially assembled shells, half-tested units, and boxed-up parts — never even made it to the finish line. They weren’t delivered, weren’t accepted, and under the contract Cyberlux so helpfully handed to the world, they weren’t government property either.
Under FFP rules — the kind Cyberlux agreed to — risk of loss and title remain with the contractor until the government formally accepts the goods. No acceptance, no transfer. No exceptions.
Yet even after releasing documents that plainly sink their own argument, Cyberlux is still parading around a declaration from a retired Air Force Major General, trying to cloud the issue. The General’s declaration claims that because government representatives inventoried the drones after termination, ownership somehow shifted automatically. It’s a nice story, but that’s all it is. Title doesn’t pass because someone came by with a clipboard. No DD250, no acceptance, no transfer. The law is crystal clear, and so is Cyberlux’s contract — both of which say otherwise.
And just to put a final stamp on the absurdity, the very declaration Cyberlux has been waving around cites the wrong federal regulation. It argues that the drones became “Government-Furnished Property” under FAR 52.245-1, conveniently ignoring that Cyberlux’s subcontract is a Firm Fixed Price agreement — not a cost-reimbursement or Contractor-Furnished Property (CFPP) contract. Under FFP terms, title stays with the contractor until successful delivery and acceptance — which never happened. It’s difficult to claim the law is on your side when you’re citing the wrong contract type altogether.
Even the declaration quietly admits that final delivery instructions from the government were never issued. Which means Cyberlux is still sitting on a warehouse full of drones, hoping no one notices that the emperor has no clothes — or drones, officially.
The constables who attempted to execute a writ of seizure didn’t miss it either. They showed up at Cyberlux’s Spring, Texas warehouse eight separate times. Each visit ended the same way: They were told the drones were “Government property,” and that Cyberlux had no one present at the site. No officers, no representatives, no one willing to stand behind the claim. Yet when the writ returned expired, the truth was impossible to miss: the drones appear to be, and likely are, still Cyberlux’s property. After all, how can Cyberlux insist the drones belong to the Government when they cannot produce a single signed DD250 — the mandatory acceptance form spelled out in their own contract? This on top of the glaring reality that they never even met the contract’s acceptance criteria to begin with.
It would be funny if it weren’t so brazen.
Cyberlux spent months telling courts, creditors, and anyone else who asked that the assets were untouchable. Now, thanks to their own document dump, it’s clear they’re very touchable indeed — and still squarely in the sights of the plaintiffs trying to collect millions in outstanding judgments.
They thought they could bluff their way through by invoking secrecy, contracts, and military hardware. Instead, they published the evidence that unravels their entire defense.
They published the original subcontract completely unredacted — every word, every clause, right down to the acceptance paperwork they failed to meet. But when it came time to release the modification — the document that details how little was completed, how much was unfinished, and exactly what Cyberlux still held — suddenly, half the pages disappeared under black ink. This wasn’t just bureaucratic redaction. It was a surgical effort to bury the evidence that undercuts Cyberlux’s entire claim that the drones belonged to the Government. You don’t black out the pages that help you. You black out the ones that don’t. [See: Cyberlux-HII Modification Agreement (heavily redacted)]
Sometimes you don’t need a smoking gun. Sometimes you just need your opponent to hand you the bullet, the gun, and a signed confession.
Cyberlux did all three. Voluntarily.
Disclaimer
All posts, articles, and op-eds about Cyberlux Corporation are grounded entirely in information sourced from publicly available court records, government documents, and financial disclosures filed with OTC Markets. This content is intended for informational purposes only—it’s not legal advice, it’s not financial guidance, and it’s definitely not an invitation to dive headfirst into investment decisions. Our interpretations, opinions, and conclusions stem exclusively from these accessible resources. Ultimate adjudication of legal matters rests with the courts and qualified legal professionals. As always, you’re encouraged to verify independently because, let’s face it, trust but verify is a motto that never goes out of style. If you believe there is an error in our reporting and have verifiable proof, we encourage you to present it, and we will promptly review and address any inaccuracies.