You know that moment in a thriller when the hero realizes the partner they’ve trusted is wearing someone else’s face? That’s where you are now, TrellisWare. Because somewhere between product integration and contract name-dropping, you got pulled into a relationship with a company that isn’t just unstable—it’s radioactive. You may not have known it. You may not have signed off on it. But your name is now inside their story. And the deeper you look, the worse it gets.
You’re being cited. Cited in decks. Whispered in strategy rooms. Not in court filings—yet—but you’re one headline away from it. Hinted at in strategy memos. Circled in analyst briefings. Not yet the subject of courtroom dialogue—but heading in that direction if the silence holds. Did you authorize the use of your name? Maybe not. But did you verify who was carrying your tech into their second act, after the first one collapsed in a heap of breached contracts and unpaid partners?
That’s the rabbit hole. And it’s dark down there.
This isn’t about the lawsuits—at least not directly. You can find those on public dockets. Dozens of them. From defense integrators. From engineers. From veteran-owned businesses who say Cyberlux used them, then stiffed them. But what they also say—on record—is that Cyberlux didn’t just make promises. It made those promises while waving around other people’s reputations. Reputations like yours.
Because here’s the part that should keep someone at TrellisWare up tonight: you didn’t need to be there when the original $78.8 million drone contract imploded. That ship had already sunk. But when Cyberlux resurfaced, when it rebranded and pivoted and started writing a new chapter, that’s when your name entered the narrative.
You might not have been there for Act I. But you sure as hell are in Act II. And this isn’t just any act—it’s the one playing out while your waveforms, including TSM, TSM-X, Katana, and WREN, are becoming indispensable to the U.S. military and USSOCOM. You’re not selling gadgets anymore; you’re powering communications lifelines. The stakes aren’t hypothetical. They’re operational.
And now the question that starts to echo—especially in a courtroom, or in a Congressional subcommittee, or in the inbox of an oversight journalist—is this:
“Who signed off on letting your tech get anywhere near theirs?”
Did you vet them? Did you document where your radios were being deployed, or how your branding was being represented? When Cyberlux started dropping your name in the same breath as future tech integrations and tactical innovations, did anyone at TrellisWare ask how this story began?
Because this isn’t just about a company with debt. It’s about a company that keeps building new scaffolding out of borrowed trust. And that scaffolding now has your logo printed on it.
Not knowing doesn’t clear your name. It just opens the door to a bigger question:
“Why didn’t you?”
Because if your radios are going into platforms sold on illusions—if your specs are showing up in slide decks designed to rewrite history—then this isn’t just about oversight.
This is about whether your silence will help Cyberlux look credible just long enough to write its next lie. Because silence doesn’t just endanger your company—it puts the reputations of the people who built it on the line. People like Matt Fallows, Haidong Wang, Metin Bayram, and Reid Kinder, whose credibility in defense circles was earned through real innovation, not borrowed hype. These aren’t names that belong anywhere near lawsuits, breached contracts, or civil theft allegations. But if TrellisWare continues to stay silent, that’s exactly where they’re being dragged—by association, by negligence, or by the absence of a clear and immediate response. Because once your reputation is leveraged by a company like Cyberlux, you don’t get to be neutral anymore. You either cut ties—or you become complicit. Just ask HII Defense. They wired millions to a contractor whose narrative was collapsing in real time. The fallout wasn’t just contractual. It was reputational. That’s what happens when trust is treated like a marketing asset instead of a mission-critical responsibility.
So here’s your moment, TrellisWare. You can still walk away clean. But not if you pretend you’re not standing in the smoke.
To read more about the allegations your new partner is facing, CLICK HERE.